


Thunderstruck

by riversdamsel



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Violence, F/M, happens in later chapters, in which they are spies and some, someone's always in danger just roll with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:04:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversdamsel/pseuds/riversdamsel
Summary: Matt Smith fancies himself as a patient sort of man.  Long line at the grocers?  No problem.  A detained enemy refusing to give up the location of his arms dealer?  He's got all day.  But when facing the man before him, Matt always seems to have a particularly short fuse.Today is no different, Matt gritting his teeth before slowly stating, “For the last time, I don’t need a handler.”Spy AU





	1. every day with someone new

**Author's Note:**

> All right y'all, it's been over three years since I received a prompt for a Matt/Alex spy AU, but we finally made it!!!!
> 
> Chapter title from Someone New by Hozier

     Matt Smith fancies himself as a patient sort of man.  Long line at the grocers?  No problem.  A detained enemy refusing to give up the location of his arms dealer?  He's got all day.  But when facing the man before him, Matt always seems to have a particularly short fuse.

 

     Today is no different, Matt gritting his teeth before slowly stating, “For the last time,  _I don’t need a handler_.”

 

     The head of MI6 straightens and crosses his arms, all bulky shoulders and impressive muscles concealed under a finely pressed grey suit.  The glare he levels at Matt is impressive, intimidating even.  A fact that Matt would take heed of if he wasn’t currently so damn frustrated.

 

     “Actually, Smith, you  _do_.”

 

     Agitation prickles under his skin.  He's not a bloody child, he doesn't need anyone to hold his hand. 

 

     “If you believe that so ruddy much then why did you transfer my last one?”

 

     “He was too soft with you.  You never took his advice or directions.  I bet you don’t even know his name!”

 

     “I do!”  A pause.  “Davidson?  Daniels?”

 

     “Darvill.”

 

     Matt snorts.  “Close enough.”

 

     “ _Close enough_  doesn’t cut it, Smith.”

 

     Taking a deep breath through the nose, Matt calmly suggests, “I got the job done without his help, Sir.  I don’t need a handler.”

 

     “You nearly compromised the last mission with your stubbornness.  That could have cost dozens of lives, including your own!”

 

     Matt juts out his chin in defiance.  “If I’m so stubborn then what makes you think I’ll listen to someone new?”

     

     Sir’s scowl turns into a smirk, the tight set of his shoulders loosening to convey the easy confidence of one who knows he has already won.  “I believe she’s going to give you a run for your money in the stubborn department, Smith.  You’ll either cooperate with her or beg to have Darvill back.  Either way, I’m satisfied.”

 

     Matt barely represses the urge to roll his eyes.

 

     “Now,” Sir continues, holding out a small gadget, “you’re going to put in this earpiece and take the suitcase by the door with you to the train station.  A ticket under the name of Robinson has already been reserved for you.  Once aboard, your handler will contact you to brief you on the mission.”

 

     Matt scoffs.  “I don’t even get to meet her first?”

 

     “She’s very busy.”

 

     “If she’s so busy then why is she assigned as my handler?”

 

     Sir glares at him and Matt sighs in defeat.  “Fine. Whatever.  I’ll make sure to look for her call, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

 

     “I never said you did.”

 

XxX

 

     The train gives a gentle sway as it rushes through the German countryside.  Matt slides the door to his private compartment closed and plops down onto the cushioned bench seat.  His muscles ache, and the bruise that continues to blossom across his right knuckles is turning out to be quite dark.  Obtaining those documents wasn't nearly as simple as Davidson- no, Darvill- had made it seem.  Though in fairness, Matt had chucked his ear piece into the Rhine after just two minutes of listening to him droll out instructions. 

 

     His eyes feel heavy, and sleep sounds better than just about anything else in the world.  Of course, just as Matt closes his eyes, the call from his new handler comes through.  Sighing, he opens his eyes and taps the ear piece to answer.

 

     Forgoing any greeting, Matt starts right in with his argument. 

 

     "You know I really don't need a handler.  In fact, I completed my last mission without any help at all.  And not only that!"  Matt stands, forging on in hopes that this woman will better understand him than Sir.  "If you look at my file, you'll find that three of my last ten missions were successfully seen through from start to finish with no handler whatsoever!"

 

     From the earpiece, all Matt hears is silence.  His shoulders drop.  "Are you there?"

 

     "Depends," comes the voice from the woman on the other line.  "Are you done?"

 

     She sounds almost...amused.  Matt isn't sure what he was expecting- maybe the same logic Sir threw at him, or perhaps for her to even give in with an  _it's-your-life-not-mine_  kind of attitude that some handlers of his past have had.

 

     "Um."  Matt slumps back into his seat, unsure how to answer her question.  "No?"

 

     "Well in that case, I think our conversation is over.  It sounds like you need to eat and get some proper rest, Agent Smith."

 

     "Wait.  That's it?  You're going to drop my mission?"

 

     " _Our_  mission- and no, of course not.  I'm not that easy to get rid of, I'm afraid."  From her tone, Matt can hear that she is laughing at his now-lost shred of hope.  "I'll be in contact with you tomorrow.  Goodbye, Agent Smith."

 

     A definitive  _click_ , then an automated voice rings across the line, " _Call ended."_   Matt taps his ear piece off with a sigh.  So much for arguing.

 

     Glancing out the window, Matt is comforted by the sight of the setting sun.  The scenery is a blur as the train continues to rush along its path, long shadows cast across green plains mixed with the soft hues of sunset.  Tomorrow will bring a new mission, a new handler, and a new day.

 

XxX

 

     It is early enough in the morning that the sky is still dark as Matt boards his connecting train to London.  His new handler hadn't been wrong- he really did need to sleep.  This morning he feels refreshed and significantly less agitated. 

 

     Matt finds his compartment and carelessly tosses his bag inside before heading toward the dining car.  For the past month he had been residing in Berlin for a mission regarding government documents.  No sooner had the files been in hand before Sir came knocking on his door.  It has been a long, tiring month, and now he thinks that more than anything he could use a drink.

 

     The dining car of the train is mostly empty as he slips inside, the faint smell of smoke lingering in the air and hung glasses clinking lightly together as they sway with the movement of the train.  The only other patron occupying the car, a woman, watches him intently as he makes his way to the bar and orders a drink.  Glancing back, Matt finds her eyes still on him and a tiny smirk playing across her lips.  Distantly, he thinks that if he wasn’t currently on a mission he would meet her gaze head on, buy her a drink, escort her back to his private compartment and draw the flimsy shade that covers the small window on the sliding door.

 

     With a regretful sigh, he sinks into an empty booth with his drink and settles for staring out the window.  As much as he has missed the intimacy that comes with simply  _being_  with a woman, he has learned that flings and missions do not mix.

 

     Matt loses himself in thought and ignores his drink, and apparently his surroundings as well because the moment he focuses himself, he is startled to find that he is no longer the only occupant of his booth.  Opposite him now sits the woman who had been watching him so intently, arms draped leisurely across the back of the seat and small smirk still in place, as if her lips were naturally drawn that way.

 

     Temporarily stunned, Matt finds himself incapable of doing much other than opening and closing his mouth, like a fish struggling to breathe.  Or more accurately, an idiot struggling to speak.

 

     “You’re not very observant, Agent Smith.”  The woman speaks and he immediately recognizes the voice as the one he heard just yesterday evening.  His new handler.  He flounders further.

 

      The woman across him wings up an eyebrow, as if in challenge.  A warm flush creeps over the tips of his ears. 

 

     “Hey- you- I-” Huffing, Matt narrows his eyes and props his elbow on the table, pointing his finger in her direction.  “ _You_.”

 

     Leaning forward, she grins, teeth gleaming like the Cheshire cat.  “Me.”

 

     “I thought you would be in London!”

 

     “And I thought you were getting rest.”  She eyes his drink.  "Alcohol before the sun rises?"

 

     Deflating, Matt leans back in his seat.  “I just needed to-”

 

     “Relax?”  She finishes his sentence for him, her smirk softening into a smile.  “I would imagine so.  You don’t have to explain to me, Agent Smith.”

 

     “You can call me Matt.”

 

     The smirk returns.  “I like Agent Smith.”

 

     The corners of his lips turn up in a smile, and he takes a brief moment to catalog the features of her face.  Her eyes are a brilliant shade of green, flecks of gold hiding there along with amusement and the shadows that come with working for MI6.  Her nose is wide, regal looking, as if she belongs with the Roman goddesses.  Perhaps she does.  And her  _hair_.  Her hair is glorious, all riotous curls that seem to dance about her shoulders as if they have a life of their own.  She is- she is…she just  _is_.

 

     “You’re staring.”  Her voice snaps him from his thoughts to find her watching him with a raised brow, his drink having migrated into her hand.

 

     Matt grins.  “I know.”

 

     For a moment, her face is blank.  Then, a wide smile pushes at her cheeks as she laughs, bright and delighted.  Something about it causes his smile to grow, warmth curling inside his chest.

 

     “You know, earlier when I came in I noticed you watching me.  Thought you were one of those birds who goes on holiday and shags all the men who are up for it.”

 

     “Well are you up for it?”

 

     Her expression is one of pure curiosity, giving away nothing as Matt instantly turns red and begins to sputter, “I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I-”

 

     “Well I never said I  _didn’t_  want to shag you.” 

 

       He gapes, earning another laugh.  Swirling the ice in his glass, she grins.  “You're easy to wind up, aren't you?  Bless.  This mission is going to be such fun.”

 

     Yesterday, Matt would not have agreed with the sentiment, but now...well, now it feels a bit different.

  

     Embracing the ridiculous grin currently pushing at his cheeks, he leans forward and asks, "So what's your name?"

 

     A look of mild surprise crosses her face.  "From what I hear, you don't much care for the names of your handlers."

 

     "Well how can I be expected to flirt properly without a name?"

 

     Her eyebrows raise.  "So you didn't want to flirt with Agent Darvill, then?"

 

     Matt shrugs, grinning.  "He didn't seem like the flirting type."

 

     "And I do?"

 

     "Well you did just ask me if I was up for a shag."

 

     She presses her lips against a smile.  "I was merely curious, Agent."

 

     "Oh, of course.  Definitely _not_  the flirting type, then.  How silly of me, Agent...?"

 

     The woman pauses for a brief moment of contemplation.  Then, she supplies, "Kingston."

 

     Finding himself in yet another gape, Matt stumbles out, "Wait- what?  Kingston?  As in  _Agent_  Kingston?”

 

     “The one and only.” 

 

     He gets the distinct feeling she’s laughing at him again, but he’s too stunned to care.   _Agent Kingston_.  The best in the field.

 

     “But.  Wait.  Agent  _Alex_  Kingston?  I thought-  _he_.  But clearly not because  _you’re_  -”

 

     “Agent  _Alexandra_  Kingston, darling” she interrupts and oh yes, she is definitely laughing at him now.

 

     He laughs excitedly.  “You’re brilliant!”  She only hums in response, and he frowns suddenly.  “Why have you been assigned as my handler?”

 

     “Sir thought it best if I stayed out of the field for a while,” she hedges and his frown deepens.

 

     Six months ago Agent Kingston disappeared off the map during the middle of a mission.  With the tracker having vanished and no contact able to be made, it took over three months for a team to recover him-  _her_ \- from where she was being held at an enemy base.  That was all Matt knew about the situation and something about her tone suggests that it is all he ever will.  All agents inevitably find themselves having to endure a situation such as that, sometimes more than once, but very few are open about their experiences, and Matt has never been the prying type.

 

     Choosing to drop the subject entirely, Matt sighs and suggests, "I suppose now would be a good a time as any to fill me in on our mission."

 

     " _Our_  mission?  Done arguing about having me aboard, then?"

 

     Matt grins and shrugs.  "For now."

 

     Alex tsks, puling her communicator out of her bag.  "And here Sir said you would be difficult."

 

     "I'm feeling gracious."

 

     Without taking her eyes from her device, Alex replies, "What a lucky girl I must be."

 

     "The absolute luckiest, Kingston."

 

     A small smile cracks at the corner of her lips, and for whatever reason it feels like a victory.

 

     Sliding her communicator across to him, Alex states, "The vault beneath the Gherkin was robbed four nights ago.  Successfully."

 

     Matt frowns.  "We're not robbery detectives."

 

     "It's not an ordinary robbery.  Do you know how many levels of security they had to get through?  And that aside, the same group broke into the London Stock Exchange three weeks before."

 

     Straightening in his seat, Matt clarifies, "What do you mean 'group?'"

 

     Alex reaches across the table and taps her communicator to life.  "They call themselves the Assembly."

 

     "Assembly of what?"

 

     "No idea.  All we know right now is that they have stolen from two very important resources to London- to the entire country- and that they're planning to do it again."

 

     "How do we know that?"

 

     She gestures to the screen.  "This is the second one Headquarters received, both signed by the Assembly."

 

     Matt pulls the communicator closer and reads the four short lines.

 

**_To find my location you’ll have to think deep,_ **

**_And to open my doors you’ll need three feet._ **

**_As the old lady I promote public good,_ **

**_For one night only I’ll play Robin Hood_ ** **.**

 

     His brow furrows as he returns his attention to Alex.  "A riddle?"

 

     She nods.  "The answer is the Assembly's next target."

 

     Matt stares down at the riddle and huffs out a laugh in disbelief.  "Why would they tell us where they're going to be next?"

 

     "It's a power play, I'm assuming."

 

     "So wherever they go, they're already going to be prepared for us to be there."  Matt pauses, then looks at Alex as he smiles.  "Sounds dangerous."

 

     Her answering smile is identical to his.  "That it does."

 

      _Finally_.  A mission more exciting than retrieving documents.  Matt leans back, unable to wipe the grin from his face.  "So what exactly do we know other than their name and these riddles."

 

     "Nothing.  The only information we have is what they've given us."

 

     "Have you already tried to trace the IP address that sent the riddle?"

 

     "It was inconclusive."

 

     "What about the security cameras in and around the Stock Exchange and the Gherkin?  Have those already been checked?"

 

     "Completely wiped."

 

     "No witnesses?  Surely a security guard must have seen something."

 

     Alex shakes her head, and he is briefly distracted by the bounce of her curls.  "Nothing."

 

     "Bloody hell."  Feeling his eagerness wane, Matt notes, "They're good.  So what's the plan?"

 

     "Solve the riddle.  Try to catch them."

 

     "In other words, do exactly what they're expecting?"

 

     "Do you have any better ideas?"

 

     Matt sighs.  "I wish I did."

 

     Leaning forward, Matt plans to reread the riddle, but it is swiped from under his nose before he has the chance to get through the first line.

 

     "Nope," states Alex as she shoves the communicator into her bag.  "We start tomorrow.  You just finished a mission yesterday- today you need to rest."

 

     Matt grins and teases, "Worried about me, Kingston?"

 

     Without returning his tone, she responds, "Of course, darling.  You're my agent."

 

      _Her agent_.  Maybe he could get used to that.

 

     Standing, Matt gestures to the glass in her hand.  "I'm going to grab another drink."

 

     Alex smiles and lifts his drink to her lips.  "And I'll finish yours."

 

     Approaching the bar, Matt signals the bartender for another drink.  As he waits, he thinks that perhaps having a handler will be better for him than he is willing to admit.  And he would definitely _not_  admit it.  Especially to Sir.

 

     The ice in his new drink gives a gentle clink as he turns back to their booth.  Instantly, his heart takes a small drop.  Agent Kingston is gone, having only left an empty glass behind.  Matt slides into his seat and gives a faint smile at the lipstick print on his previous glass.  He thinks of the smirk that put it there, and decides yes, having Agent Kingston as his handler is exactly what he needs.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. tell me what you think about your situation, complication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dinner plans are made, the first riddle is solved, and the mission has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Livin' on the Edge by Aerosmith

   

 

**_To find my location you’ll have to think deep,_ **

**_And to open my doors you’ll need three feet._ **

**_As the old lady I promote public good,_ **

**_For one night only I’ll play Robin Hood_ ** **.**

 

XxX

 

    “It could be the Queen.”

 

     There is a moment of silence from Alex.  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

 

     “What?  She’s old!”  Matt argues, sitting alone in the middle of the floor in his flat two days later, earpiece in as he talks to Agent Kingston and communicator open to the riddle.

 

_As the old lady I promote public good…_

 

     “ _No_ , Matthew.  She’s perfect.”

 

     “Yes.  But she’s still old.”

 

     Alex huffs and Matt rushes to explain.  “Think about it.  She’s old  _and_  she sort of has to promote public good.”

 

     “No one in their right mind would try to rob the Queen.”

 

     “Exactly.  These people are mad.  It fits.”

 

     A sigh crackles over the line and he thinks that if he could see her, she would have her face in her hands, curls tumbling in every direction.  Or perhaps they’re piled on top of her head, pieces escaping and causing her to continually swipe them away in an agitated manner.  He wishes he was with her to know.

 

     “Let’s just…let’s just move to another line for now, okay?”

 

     “Fine.  But I’m telling you I’m right.”  Matt scans the riddle over once more, regardless of the fact that he’s long had it memorized, and reads the first line aloud.  “ _To find my location you’ll have to think deep_.”  A sigh.  “What is that even supposed to mean?”

 

     A smirk lines Alex’s voice as she suggests, “I  _always_  think deep.”

 

     Heat crawls up Matt’s face as he sputters, “Kingston!  I’m almost entirely sure that’s not what it means!”

 

     Putting on an air of innocence she asks, “What do you mean?”  A brief pause, then an exaggerated, mock gasp follows as she pretends to grasp the meaning of his words.  As if  _she_  wasn’t the one to form the thought in the first place.  “Agent Smith!  I’m appalled that your mind would even go to such a place!”  He swears he can hear her smirk widening.  “ _Naughty_.”

 

     “You’re terrible,” he grouses, suddenly glad that she’s not around to see how red she is capable of turning his face.  It would only fuel her, he’s sure.

 

     She gives a low laugh, something about the sound only deepening his blush.  “I think you enjoy it, Agent.”

 

     Giving in, he grins.  “It's possible.”

 

     “Just like it's possible that the riddle is _not_  alluding to the crown jewels?”

 

     “No!  I would put money that they’re going after those jewels.”

 

     “It doesn’t make sense!”

 

     “It does!  _Think deep_ \- obviously getting into the Tower without being caught will take much more than your average thinking.”

 

     “But-”

 

     " _Three feet_ ," Matt surges on, "now I’ll admit I haven’t exactly figured out that bit, but the next line is definitely talking about the Queen.  The last phrase mentions Robin Hood, and he’s supposed to ‘take from the rich and give to the poor’ or whatever.  Who’s wealthier than the Queen?”

 

     “Tons of people,” Alex deadpans, obviously not impressed with his deduction.

 

     “I’m telling you, I’m right.”

 

     “Fine,” Alex sighs.  “I have to go, but I’ll make some calls to double the security in and around the Tower, okay?”

 

     Satisfied, Matt grins smugly to himself.  “That’s all I’m asking, Kingston.”

 

     “I’ll call you as soon as I have more news.”  And with that, she ends the call.

 

XxX

 

_Dinner? xx_

 

     His communicator beeps, alerting him of Alex’s message just as he’s rummaging through his bare cupboards.  Perfect timing, really.

 

     Unaware of his grin, he quickly types out a reply.

 

_Asking me on a date, Agent Kingston???_

 

_In your dreams, Smith._

 

_Oh my dreams take us much further than dinner ;) ;)_

 

_My dreams skip dinner entirely._

 

_You’re terrible!_

 

_So is that a no to dinner?_

 

_Yes to dinner (: (: (:_

 

     The next message contains nothing but the name of a small local café, and though he repeatedly tells himself that he is most definitely not excited to be meeting this woman for dinner, he is properly dressed and out the door within five minutes.

 

XxX

 

     Checking his watch for the umpteenth time, he slumps back in his seat and dejectedly scans the room in hopes of seeing a glimpse of those curls.  He’s been sitting at this small table, in this uncomfortable chair, in this tiny little café for what seems like days, but in reality has only been fifty-two minutes, according to his watch.

 

     With every minute that passes, the more he begins to believe that Agent Kingston has stood him up.  Just as he’s getting ready to forgo dinner entirely and moodily sulk home, his communicator beeps.

 

_Meet me outside.  xx_

 

     For a moment he only glares petulantly at the screen.  Who does she think she is, bossing him about like she owns him?

 

     Grumbling a bit, Matt rises from his seat and stalks out the door, fully prepared to give her a piece of his mind.  Mouth half open and ready to deliver a semi-rehearsed rant, he freezes in his tracks upon seeing her leaning against a vintage-looking Cadillac Eldorado.  And it's _orange_.

 

     Barking out a laugh, he approaches her with his eyes still glued to the car.  Gesturing to it, he asks, “What is _that_?”

 

     Straightening from her position, Alex glares at him.  “It’s my car, Matthew.”

 

     Letting out a whistle, he runs his hands along the smooth polish.  “I can’t decide if it’s beautiful or an eyesore.”

 

     She bats his hands away.  “It’s not an eyesore.”

 

     Matt raises his brows.  “A beautiful eyesore, then?”

 

     Huffing, she opens the passenger door for him.  “Just get in.”

 

     He makes no move forward, temporarily distracted as he fully takes in her appearance for the first time that evening.  A soft-looking green dress hangs loosely on her body, the material gently hugging her curves and her hair dancing lightly with nearly-cold autumn breeze.  With her hand placed on her hip in impatience and her green eyes narrowed as she glares at him, he absurdly thinks that she looks like some sort of intimidating wood nymph.

 

     Finally deciding to move, he slips into the car while grinning, thinking that if he ever voiced that thought aloud she would most likely castrate him on the spot.

 

     Alex hops into the driver’s side and his grin widens as he takes in the interior of the car.  It screams vintage America, double orange slide across seats, driver’s side on the left, white convertible top, metal steering wheel, and an all-transistor radio built into the dash.  His mind produces images of driving through the American desert, top pulled back and Alex fondly rolling her eyes at him as he sings badly to some oldies song on the radio.

 

     Suddenly he frowns at himself- where did that thought even come from?

 

     Completely unaware of his newly found internal dilemma, Alex reaches into the backseat and heaves over a large black duffel bag to set between them.  Matt raises his brows.  “I thought we were having dinner.”

 

     Unzipping the bag, Alex doesn’t look up as she answers, “Yes, that was  _before_  I figured out the riddle.  Which is why I’m so late.”  She glances up at him briefly.  “Sorry about that, by the way.”

 

     Matt waves off her apology as if he hadn’t been pouting the entire time he was sat there by himself.  “It’s fine, though I was beginning to think that you had stood me up, Kingston.”

 

     A small smirk playing across her lips, she raises a brow at him.  “It wasn’t a date.”

 

     Grinning playfully, he leers at her.  “It could have been.”

 

     Instantly, all signs of playfulness are erased from her face, and she clears her throat once before she returns her attention back to the bag.  “No, it couldn’t have.”

 

     Matt frowns, trying to ignore the irrational pang of disappointment that her words shoot to his heart.  Then, it is forgotten as his brain catches up with why she said they weren’t having dinner in the first place.

 

     “Wait!  You just said you figured out the riddle- I thought we already agreed it was talking about the crown jewels.”

 

     “No.  _You_  said it was the crown jewels.  I think- no,  _I know_ \- it’s the Bank of England.”

 

     His frown deepens.  “Explain.”

 

     Quickly, Alex pulls out her communicator and taps the screen a few times to bring up the riddle.  Pointing to the first line, she begins, “ _To find my location you’ll have to think deep_.  The vault for the Bank of England is underground, right?”

 

     He nods and she moves to the next line.  “ _And to open my doors you’ll need three feet_.  It doesn’t mean feet as in the body, but feet as in the  _measurement_.  I did a bit of research and the physical key to open the vault’s door is three feet long.”

 

     Matt raises his eyebrows in surprise, leaning forward a bit and feeling his heart pick up pace in the way it does when he’s on the verge of finding any long-sought answer.

 

     “Line three,” Alex continues, “  _As the old lady I promote public good_.  The Bank is often commonly referred to as the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street- comes from some old legend, you know?  And the Bank’s self-proclaimed mission is to  _promote public good for the benefit of the people_.”

 

     Matt swallows tightly, staring at the riddle and unable to deny that his theory surrounding the crown jewels has suddenly lost all credibility in the wake of this revelation.

 

     “So you think they’re going to try to rob the vault under the Bank of England?  That's mad- it's the UK’s largest gold reserve!”

 

     “I think they’re going to  _try_.”

 

     “When?”

 

     “Tonight.”

 

     Matt feels his eye bulge.  “What?!”

 

     “Tonight the Bank is hosting some gala for charity in the museum next door.  Security probably won’t be as tight as normal around the vault because they'll need it elsewhere.  Tonight makes sense.”

 

     “Then why are we just sitting here?!”

 

     “Because,” Alex answers calmly, “I needed to take time to explain why I thought I was right.  If I had just thrown you into the situation, how much would you have trusted me?”

 

     Choosing not to answer, Matt can only stare at her, silently acknowledging that she is right once again.  Had she just snapped her fingers and ordered him into the Bank, Matt would have been blinded by his own stubbornness, convinced that she was only wasting his time.

 

     “And of course,” Alex continues, “I can’t have my agent going in unarmed.”  She grins at him and pulls a hand gun from the black bag.

 

     “I already have a gun,” Matt states, gesturing beneath his jacket where his weapon is concealed, feeling a bit smug at being a step ahead of her.

 

     “You want this one,” she says simply, holding out the sleek, thin, chrome-coated handheld.

 

     He opens his mouth in protest- he doesn’t  _need_  a new gun- when she holds up her hand to cut him off.

 

     “I had this,” she points to the black grip of the gun, “coded to the prints of your palm and fingers.  It will only shoot for you.”

 

     Eyes widening, he snatches the gun from her hand, belatedly realizing that perhaps he should have downplayed his enthusiasm as Alex smirks at him.

 

     Trying to quell his excitement, he attempts to force the grin from his face as he hands over his old gun in return.  “I’ll need your wrist watch as well,” Alex states, reaching over to undo the clasp herself.  Her fingers lightly brush against his skin, sending shivers ghosting up his arm.

 

     Momentarily too distracted to argue, Matt loses his chance to protest when a second later she has a new watch clasped to his wrist.

 

     “This watch has a tracking device inside of it.”

 

     Matt frowns at her.  “I don’t need to be tracked around like I’m some child.”

 

     In a calm tone that makes Matt feel vaguely like an adolescent anyhow, Alex responds as she rummages around in the black bag once more, “Child you may not be, but I need to know the whereabouts of my agent at all times.  The windup mechanism on the watch doubles as a distress signal that can be sent without you having to say a word.  If you’re ever in any sort of trouble, just pop it out and I’ll be there in less than a second.”

 

     When he nods along absently, Alex hardens her gaze and forces him to look at her.  “It’s important that you trust me, Matthew.”

 

     Matt gives her a grin.  “I am literally placing my life in your hands, Kingston.”

 

     Seeing no amusement in his statement, she moves onto the next piece of gear, a thick-banded, black onyx ring that slides perfectly onto his finger.  “A micro-explosive,” she explains, “Twist the stone and you have exactly thirty seconds before detonation.”

 

     Distantly, he thinks that his cause of death is going to be directly linked between his own clumsiness and the dangerous devices with which Agent Kingston is entrusting him.

 

     "Next," Alex states, pressing two cuff links into his palm.  

 

    At first he thinks they're decorated with spots, but on closer inspection he finds them to be impossibly tiny holes.  Matt snorts.  "What?  Do they spit poison or something?"

 

     "Don't be ridiculous.  Just put them on," Alex demands as she grabs his communicator and places it next to her own.  "Now I'm going to sync our communicators so you'll have both 2D and 3D map plans of the Bank."  Her fingers fly across both screens, typing one thing here, swiping a few things there, and he only watches her uselessly as he snaps on his cuff links, suddenly realizing just how much he’s going to be depending on her this entire mission.

 

     “And one last thing,” she adds once she hands him back his communicator, pulling out a black lanyard from her bag, complete with a photo ID of him that pronounces him as an employee of the Bank of England.

 

     Matt gawks at the identification badge as she slips it over his head.  “How did you have time to make this?!”

 

     “I didn’t.”  She glances away, something akin to regret flashing across her face.  “I missed dinner, remember?”

 

     He pouts at her.  “You owe me for that.”

 

     Quirking an eyebrow, she leans back in her seat.  “Oh?  And what exactly do I owe you, Agent Smith?”

 

     “Hmm,” he ponders, “I’ll have to think on it.  Some sort of favor.”

 

     Smirking in a way that tells him to guard himself, she leans forward.  “And what sort of  _favor_  do you have in mind?”

 

     Pointing a finger at her, he presses his lips tightly together as he fights off both his blush and the urge to play right into her game of winding him up.  “I-,” he clears his throat, “I should go before any more time is wasted.”

 

     “Or before your face gets any redder.”

 

     Glaring and having to resist the childish act of sticking his tongue out at her, he hops out of the car.

 

     “Matt!”  She calls just before he shuts the door.  “Be safe.”

 

     Grinning, he tsks at her.  “Now come on, Kingston, you have to let me have a little fun.”

 

XxX

 

     The Bank is within his sight when Agent Kingston’s voice crackles in through his earpiece.  “Can you hear me?  I just wanted to make sure you could hear me.  You can hear me, right?”

 

     Matt snorts at her fretful tone.  “Yes, mother.”

 

     A gasp.  “Matthew!”

 

     He laughs lightly, “Oh don’t worry, Kingston, my thoughts concerning you are far from motherly.”

 

     Silence.

 

     “Alex?”

 

     “Just shut up,” she grumbles, and he laughs at the smile he can hear in her voice.

 

     His mood sobers as he makes his way up the stone steps of the Bank, the building looming over him and seeming more like some impenetrable fortress rather than a bank.  Affecting an air of confidence, he approaches the doorman, a position that is held both day and night and has the duty of a guardsman more than anything else.

 

     Matt nods to the man, standing a bit straighter as he holds out his identification card for inspection.  “Just popped over from the gala.  The Guv-,”

 

     “Mark Carney,” Alex whispers the name into his ear.

 

     “-Carney, asked me to grab something from his office.  Won’t be but a tick.”

 

     The doorman nods as he methodically unlocks the massive iron doors before proceeding to open the others behind it.  “Just make it quick,” he says, holding open the door.

 

     Matt gives a mock salute before entering the main hall.  He’s been inside the Bank of England a few times before, but he is somewhat shocked at how different it all seems at night.  The street lamps outside are the only source of light, dimly shining through the glass panes of the windows to filter into the building, seemingly providing more shadows than guiding light.

 

     Pulling out his communicator, he quickly plans out his route to the vault, wincing as the clicking of his boots echo off the marble floor with every step.

 

     “The identification badge you’re wearing doesn’t allow you to access the area around or within the vault,” Alex warns, “so be mindful of the security guard.”

 

     “Will do, Kingston.”

 

     He steps toward the lift, but halts as Alex speaks, "No lift.  Too easy for you to be ambushed."

 

     "You're right," Matt notes, checking the map and proceeding down a long corridor toward the stairs.

 

     "The security cameras are down," Alex murmurs to herself.

 

     "What?"

 

     "The security cameras.  I should be able to hack into them remotely, and I _have,_ but all of them are black. "

 

     Stopping at the top of the stairs and peering down into the darkness, Matt hesitantly asks, "So you can't see me at all?"

 

     "I can't see anything.  And it seems all the electronic security measures are down as well, which should make it easier, but still, it's worrisome.  Be careful."

 

     Matt nods and begins his descent.  One flight.  Two flights.  And down down  _down_  until he isn’t entirely sure how many floors the ground level is above him.

 

     The front edge of his communicator provides a beam of light akin to that of a torch, lighting his path now that exterior light is no longer an option.  While the air feels stuffy, he finds that it is also incredibly cold, and he is a bit surprised that he cannot see his breath coming out in clouds before him.

 

     Feeling uneasy, he whispers, "Do you think they're here?  The Assembly?"

 

     The pause Alex gives is too stretched to provide any reassurance.  "I'm not sure."

 

     Rounding the corner, he distantly sees a beam of light and hurriedly clicks off the light of his communicator.  Matt presses himself against a wall and halts his breathing, intently listening for any sign of movement from down the hall.

 

     "You stopped," Alex notes, and he realizes she must be watching his tracker.  "What's wrong?"

 

     "A light," Matt whispers.

 

     "Gun."

     

     It doesn't matter how many missions he has been on before, situations like this always cause his heart to race.  Matt pulls his gun from the holster, his fingers tightly gripping the handle.  His heart feels as if it's in his throat.

 

     Minutes pass in agonizing silence.

 

     "Anything?"  Alex asks.

 

     "Nothing.  I'm going to check it out."

    

     Steadily, Matt begins making his way toward the small beacon of light, gun aimed.  As he nears, he finds it to be a torch that has fallen to the ground, still on.  Picking it up, Matt shines the light in front of him and nearly stumbles back as it illuminates a figure crumpled on the ground before him.  In that same instant, a strong, harsh, coppery scent invades his nostrils, forcing him to bite back the bile that rises to his throat.

 

     “Kingston,” he whispers as he nears the fallen form of a man, face down in what looks to be his own blood.  “I think I found your security guard.”

 

     “What?”

 

     Matt leans down, checking for a pulse.  “He’s dead.”

 

     “Does it look recent?”

 

     “It’s been a few hours at least,” Matt states, noticing the film that covers the pool of blood.

 

     Looking up, he notices that the guard has fallen directly in front of the door to the vault, which currently stands wide open.

 

     Carefully stepping over the body, Matt enters the vault.  Looking around, he sees rows and rows of crates filled with bars of gold, all neatly stacked.  Well, all the crates except for two.  His heart drops.

 

     “Are you inside the vault?”

 

     “Yes,” Matt answers.

 

     “And?”

 

     “We’re too late. They’ve already done what they came to do.”

 

     Alex pauses, and he can practically feel her disappointment.  “Just hurry and get out of there.”

 

     Matt swiftly exits the vault, feeling a short pang of guilt as he leaves the dead security guard behind and begins the long jog up the stairs. 

 

     Once he reaches the main hall, he freezes.  “What about the doorman?"

 

     “Take out your communicator,” Alex says.  “On the side you should see two black circles.  Pick one, it doesn’t matter which, and press it in.”

 

     Immediately after he does so, a minuscule syringe pops out of the communicator as if it had been spring loaded.  Upon inspection, he understands the black circle wasn’t a circle at all, rather the top of the depressor to the syringe.

 

     “Inside the vial is something called Lost Serum,” Alex informs him.

 

     “Lost Serum?”  Matt repeats, continuing to inspect the syringe as it lies in his palm, no more than two inches in length.

 

     “Lost Serum causes the victim to lose his recent memory.  The syringe you have holds twelve hours of memory loss.  If you want him to lose six hours, use half.  Three hours, use a fourth, and so on.”

 

     “You think I should use this on the doorman?”

 

     “Matthew,” Alex says sternly, and Matt swears he can feel her glaring at him.  “He saw your face.  Once the authorities find a dead security guard and gold missing from the vault, whose description do you think he’s going to give upon being questioned?”

 

     Matt deflates.  “Mine.”

 

     “Ten points to Agent Smith,” Alex says dryly.

 

     He grins.  “No need for sass, Kingston.”

 

     Alex huffs.  “Just go do your job.  I’ll meet you ‘round back.”

 

     Holding the syringe carefully- honestly, he’s going to crush the fragile thing- Matt quickly moves to the doors, exiting as silently as possible.

 

     The doorman stands with his back to him and Matt offers a silent apology before sticking him with the syringe, depressing a fourth of the serum into the man’s neck for good measure.

 

     Matt doesn’t stick around to watch as the doorman crumples to the ground, swiftly bounding down the steps and sprinting around to the back of the building, relief washing over him as he sees Alex’s glaringly orange car waiting on him.

 

     Alex steps on the gas the moment he hops inside, and for the first time within the past hour he feels like he can breathe properly.  He tells himself it’s because he’s distancing himself from the Bank, the stolen gold, and the dead man,  _not_  because he’s in the presence of the woman sitting next to him.

 

     “How much gold did they take?”

 

     Matt huffs at her.  “Oh I’m fine, Kingston, thanks so much for asking.”

 

     When she glances over at him it’s more of a glare than anything else and he sighs.  “It looked to be about two crates worth.  So a bit over 400 bars of gold.”

 

     “In the grand scheme, that’s not that much.  There are  _thousands_  of bars of gold down there.”

 

     Matt nods.  “Why do you think they didn’t take more?”

 

     Alex shrugs.  “Weight, probably.  They did make out with millions, though.”

 

     Matt sighs, closing his eyes and trying not to imagine the dead security guard.  “They killed a man.”

 

     Alex stays silent for a moment before looking at him sincerely.  “I’m just glad it wasn’t you.”

 

     Matt turns his focus out the window, a small smile gracing his face at her sentiment.

 

     “So,” he says as he watches the city pass by in a blur of buildings and streetlights, “Now what?”

 

     “Now we wait.  They’ll send another riddle soon, I’m sure.”

 

     Relaxing back into his seat and suddenly feeling extremely tired, Matt closes his eyes. 

 

     Now they wait.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 3 will be up later this week ^^


	3. sound of drums beating in my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pouring herself yet another cup of coffee, Alex wearily attempts to dismiss thoughts of sleep. After the Bank, they both agreed to wait together for the next riddle to appear, but of course the moment they entered her flat Matt sprawled himself across her sofa and was asleep in seconds. With his mouth hanging open, his shirt riding up, and lightly snoring, she really shouldn’t find him as attractive as she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter. I'm equally excited and nervous to have this one going out!! Thank all of you so much for your lovely comments, they put a stupid grin on my face <:
> 
> Chapter Title from Thunderstruck by AC/DC

     

 

     Pouring herself yet another cup of coffee, Alex wearily attempts to dismiss thoughts of sleep.  After the Bank, they both agreed to wait together for the next riddle to appear, but of course the moment they entered her flat Matt sprawled himself across her sofa and was asleep in seconds.  With his mouth hanging open, his shirt riding up, and lightly snoring, she really shouldn’t find him as attractive as she does.

 

     Rolling her eyes at her own thoughts, she turns back to her cluttered kitchen table and deflates a bit at the sight of the hard wooden chair she’s been sitting in for the past six hours.  The riddle had been sent almost immediately after they arrived at her flat, and since then she has been sat in her kitchen, pouring over the four lines that mean absolutely nothing to her tired brain.

 

     Grabbing her communicator, she opts to sit on the floor instead of return to the hard, unforgiving chair at the table.  The floor is cool, offering relief to her legs as she stretches them out before her.  Vaguely, she entertains the idea of giving up on the riddle entirely and crawling into her bed, the knowledge that it is only a few rooms away taunting her mercilessly.

 

     Instead, she gives a quiet sigh, takes another sip of coffee and pulls up the riddle to read it once more.

 

**_There is Worth in art and crime,_ **

**_Quite rewarding if you avoid the time._ **

**_Riches are held in my monster Loch Ness,_ **

**_Giving them ‘way will be my ultimate test._ **

     Worth? 

 

     Art?   

 

     Time? 

 

_Loch Ness Monster?_

 

     Christ.  These riddles make her feel incredibly stupid, which she knows is the point, but is frustrating all the same.

 

     Heavy, shuffled footsteps come from her living area, and she glances up to see Matt stumbling blearily into the kitchen.  Swallowing, she averts her gaze from his rumpled appearance, trying to keep her thoughts away from wondering if his hair is always that wonderfully tousled when he gets up in the morning.

 

     “Kingston?”

 

     Or if his voice is that deliciously gruff.

 

     Bloody hell.  She needs to get laid.

 

     “Here,” she calls, trying to repress her self-inflicted blush.

 

     Stepping around the table, he frowns upon finding her on the floor.  “Why the floor?”

 

     “You try sitting in one of those damn chairs for six hours.”

 

     His eyes widen.  “I’ve been out for  _six_  hours?”

 

     “You really need more than six hours of sleep, Matt,” she says as she returns her attention back to her communicator, silently admonishing herself for being unable to keep the concern from her voice.

 

     “But you’ve not been asleep at all have you?”

 

     When she spares a glance back up at him, she sees him frowning at her, and her heart flutters at the thought that perhaps the concern is mutual.

 

     “Well they sent the next riddle,” she finally responds.  “Sort of had to stay up after that, didn’t I?”

 

     “You should’ve woken me.”

 

     She shakes her head, her lips forming into a smirk.  “Didn’t want to interrupt your snoring.”

 

     “I don’t snore!”

 

     She only hums, enjoying his huff of indignation as she sips at her coffee.

 

     Bending down, Matt takes both her communicator and her cup of coffee, ignoring her protests.

 

     “Come on, Kingston,” he extends a hand, “Bedtime.”

 

     Alex huffs, slipping her hand into his and allowing him to pull her to her feet.  Matt leads her down the hall, but she barely notices, focusing instead on the warmth of his palm and his long fingers curled around hers.

 

     “This one?”  Matt asks, snapping her from her thoughts as he nods to the open doorway of her cluttered room and unmade bed.

 

     She nods, choosing to stifle a yawn so she can smirk at him as she moves past him into her bedroom.  “Trying to get me into bed already, Agent Smith?”

 

     Despite the flush the spreads across his cheeks, he grins at her, waggling his near non-existent eyebrows at her as he responds, “Now Kingston, don’t pretend you don’t want any of this.”

 

     “Never said I didn’t, darling,” she teases as she climbs into bed, not bothering to change out of her clothing.

 

     The bed is warm and feels like dream- one she thinks she could happily never wake from.  Letting out a content little sigh, she closes her eyes as her head hits the pillow.  Almost immediately she falls asleep, missing Matt’s quiet  _Sleep well, Kingston_.

 

XxX

 

     “Kingston.”

 

     The voice is far off.  A distant, blurry noise that she chooses to ignore.

 

     “Kingston.”

 

     There it is again.  But this time it seems closer, and…is the world moving?

 

     “Kingston!”

 

     Her eyes fly open as her brain finally catches up to Matt both calling her name and shaking her to wake her.

 

     “I’m awake!"  She snaps, batting his hands away and glaring at him.

 

     “Blimey,” he comments, his voice lined with laughter.  “Guess you’re not a morning person, then?”

 

     “Matthew, if you don’t shut the hell up I swear I will find some way to behead you within the next thirty seconds.”

 

     “If you did that, you’d never know that I figured out the riddle.”

 

     “You what?!”  

 

      Ignoring his smug grin, Alex practically leaps out of bed.

 

     “Show me.  Go go go,” she demands, pushing Matt out of the room and down the hall.

 

     “We could have breakfast first,” he teases, stopping at the threshold to the kitchen.

 

     She glares.  “No, Matthew, we’re not doing anything until you explain the riddle to me.  How did you figure it out so fast?  It didn’t even make any sense!”

 

     Scratching behind his neck, he grins a bit sheepishly as he shrugs.  “I kind of had an unfair advantage.  When I was in MI5, I had a project following this guy around.  Who’d have thought it would’ve paid off this way?”

 

     “So who’s the riddle talking about?”

 

     Matt grins at her, entirely too pleased with himself.  “A crime lord.”

 

     Alex visibly pales.  “And you’re absolutely sure?”

 

     “Yep.”  Matt’s whole demeanor is entirely too smug, causing Alex’s frustration level to rise.

 

     “Matthew,” she speaks slowly, trying to remain calm regardless of her increasing anxiety.  “I understand that you’re pleased with figuring out the riddle.”  She forces herself to take a breath.  “However, I’m unsure that you’ve actually thought through what this means.”

 

     He merely blinks at her and she sighs.  “The Assembly is wanting to rob a  _crime lord_.  Our job is to stop them.  Not sure if you’re aware but we don’t work  _with_  crime lords.  And they definitely do not work with us.  They  _hate_  us.  And how exactly do you suppose we stop the Assembly when both they and their victim are against us?”

 

     Matt’s smile slowly slips from his face as Alex crosses her arms at him.

 

     He gives a forlorn sigh.  “You’re right.  The riddle just creates an even bigger problem.”  

 

    Matt's shoulders slump, prompting Alex to drop her arms and feel more than a little guilty for being a tad unnecessarily aggressive.

 

     “I'm glad you figured it out.”  She smirks suddenly.  “Proud, even, that my agent is capable of being smarter than his looks suggest.”

 

     Alex expects mocks outrage, but she can pin the exact moment he decides to play it differently.

 

     Looking interested, he asks, "And what exactly do my looks suggest, Alex?"

 

     "That you're far too pretty for your own good."

 

     Matt takes a step forward, an easy smile at the corners of his lips.  "You think I'm pretty?"

 

     Alex swallows as he invades her space.  Looking up, she answers.  “Fluffy hair, puppy eyes, and pouty lips?  You’re the definition of pretty, darling.”

 

     Her eyes drift briefly to his lips as he leans closer.  "First you want to shag me, and now you're calling me pretty?  I think you _are_  the flirting type, Agent Kingston."

 

     She attempts a weak glare.  "I never said I wanted to shag you."

 

     Matt gives an infuriating smirk.  "Ah, but I remember you never said you _didn't_."

 

     There is less than an inch between them, Alex's back pressed to the door frame and her hands itching to pull him closer.  He dips his head, fingers brushing lightly at her arm and lips hovering at her ear.  Her breathing seems to stop and _god_  for a second she thinks-

 

     "It seems I'm not the only one who's easy to wind up." 

 

     It's a whisper, a puff of breath at her ear.  Her heart is racing and it takes a full two seconds before his words register.  And then he’s gone, moving swiftly into the kitchen and out of her personal space.  Her eyes pop open to glare after him, and honestly, she doesn’t know if she would rather punch him or kiss that smug grin right off his stupid face.

 

     Matt glances back, looking far too proud of himself.  “Well I would much prefer the kiss."

 

     Great.  Now he's got her talking out loud.

 

     Alex steps into the kitchen, trying her best to seem unfazed.  “I’m sure you would, darling.  Too bad the punch is far more likely.”

 

     “Are you saying you’d never kiss me, Kingston?”

 

     “Another ten points to pretty boy.”

 

     He grins at her before turning to pour two cups of coffee.  “I think you  _do_  want to kiss me, Agent Kingston.”

 

_God yes._

 

She sits at the table.  "Not a chance."

 

     Matt only hums in response, a small smile curling his lips as if he knows the truth.  When did she become so transparent?

 

     Eager to get off the subject, Alex kicks out the chair across from her, motioning for him to sit.  “Quit stalling and explain the riddle already.”

 

     Matt huffs, dropping into the seat with a dramatic flair.  “So impatient.”

 

     Ignoring his comment, Alex pulls the riddle up on her communicator and sets it between them.

 

     “It’s a simple riddle, really.”

 

     Alex glares and Matt’s eyes widen.  “I didn’t mean it like- just because  _you_  couldn’t figure it out- I just meant-” he stops, his face reddening as he tries to gather his words.  “I just meant that once you know who it’s talking about it, the rest sort of just falls into place.”

 

     Her lips twitch as she represses her amusement.  “Just explain, Matthew.”

 

     “Right.”  Leaning in, he points to the first line-  _There is Worth in art and crime_.

 

     “Worth.  Not as in value, but as in  _Edward Worth_.  That’s why it’s capitalized.”

 

     Alex’s eyes widen, staring at the line and wondering how she missed that.  Edward Worth.  Head of one of the most profitable crime rings in London- one that specializes in both the stealing and replication of valuable art.

 

     He’s also not the most careful with his business dealings, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too powerful for any judge to throw him in jail, which she supposes explains the second line-  _Quite rewarding if you avoid the time_.

 

     “Do you know who he is?”

 

     “Of course I know who he is,” Alex snaps, still wondering how she missed it.  “And I get the second line.  What about the third one?”

 

     “ _Riches are held in my monster Loch Ness_ ,” Matt reads.  “This is where my following him around comes in handy.  He has a private yacht that he docks on the Loch Ness in Scotland.  Guess what its name is?”

 

     Alex raises a brow.  “What?”

 

     “ _Canavar_.”  Matt grins.  “It means monster in Turkish.”

 

     Alex scoffs.  “You think the Assembly is going to rob his  _yacht_?”

 

     “Oi!  Don’t laugh, Kingston.  The man keeps a vault on that boat that has millions in it easily.”

 

     Alex sighs, staring down at the screen of the communicator.  “Well I guess we know where we need to go, then.”

 

     Matt’s grin widens, looking entirely too excited for his own good.  “Next stop:  Scotland.”

 

XxX

 

     Matt sits opposite her in their private compartment aboard the train, pouting at her.

 

     Alex sighs.  “Honestly.  It’s like I’ve wounded you.”

 

     “You might as well have!”

 

     “All I did was straighten my hair!”

 

     Matt gives her an incredulous look.  “ _All_  you did?  It’s a criminal offense, Kingston.”

 

     Pursing her lips against a smile, she glances out the window at the rolling scenery.  “You’re being ridiculous.”

     

    Matt scoffs, standing and moving to sit directly next to her, his thigh warm against hers as he wraps a lock of her straightened hair around his finger.  “I would have never done this to you,” he whispers miserably to her hair.

 

     Alex laughs, nudging him away.  “Oh get off, you ridiculous man.”

 

     Releasing her hair and leaning back a bit, he grins.  “I still don’t see why you had to straighten it.”

 

     “ _Because_.  If Worth has ever heard of me- which is very possible- my hair is a dead giveaway.  That could be trouble.”

 

     “That’s not the only thing about you that’s a dead giveaway,” Matt mumbles as he returns to the seat across from her.

 

     Alex gapes at him.  “ _What_?”

 

     Matt’s eyes fly to hers, wide in alarm as if he hadn’t meant to speak aloud as he squeaks out, “Nothing!”

 

     Alex smirks at him and focuses her attention back out the window, inwardly pleased.  While she would normally jump at any opportunity to fluster him, the poor thing is blushing up to his ears already.  It’s adorable, really.

 

     Watching trees and hills fly by in a green blur, Alex’s thoughts stray to tonight’s mission.  “It’s lucky that you figured out the riddle when you did.  And that you have contacts who still keep tabs on Worth.”

 

     Matt nods.  “Otherwise we would’ve missed the party he’s throwing tonight- and probably the Assembly.”

 

     “They’re not going to win this time,” Alex whispers determinedly.

 

     “It’s funny, really.  When it comes right down to it, this is us helping a crime lord.”

 

     Alex pulls her attention away from the window look at him.  “That may be true, but it’s worse to have the Assembly rob him right under his nose.  Having a crime ring getting involved in this whole mess is the opposite of what we want."

 

     Matt nods.  “Something tells me it’s going to be a long night.”

 

XxX

 

     “We have a reservation under Robinson,” Alex speaks to the woman behind the counter in the lobby of the hotel.

 

     With a few clicks of her long fingernails on the keyboard, the woman nods and slides a paper across to Alex along with two keycards.

 

     “If you could just sign for check-in, Mrs. Robinson.”

 

     Out of the corner of her eye, Alex sees Matt’s face light up in silent glee, Alex inwardly cursing Sir for assigning the name  _Robinson_  to Matt on this mission as she signs.

 

     Sliding the paper back across the counter, Alex takes the two keycards, thanks the woman, and completely ignores Matt as she slings her bag over her shoulder and strides to the lift.

 

     Of course she should have known ignoring him wouldn’t do any good.  The moment Matt catches up, he leers toward her.  “Would you like me to take your bag,  _Mrs. Robinson_?”

 

     “If you don’t shut up I swear to god I will lock you out of the room.”

 

     Matt affects the pout.  “Now that’s not very wifely of you.”

 

     Alex laughs, stepping into the lift as it dings open.  “Actually that would be  _very_  wifely of me.”

 

     Matt sniffs.  “Kicking me out onto the cold, hard street?  I have no idea why I married you.”

 

     Smiling serenely, she pats his cheek.  “Not the street, darling, just the hallway.”

 

     The lift stops at their floor, Alex stepping out with Matt trailing behind her.  She swipes the keycard to gain access to their room and holds the door for him to follow, rolling her eyes as he beams at her.  “Just be lucky we’re not actually married, Matthew.”

 

     “I consider myself to be quite unlucky when it comes to that, Kingston.”

 

     Snorting, she shoves him toward the in-suite bathroom.  “Hurry up and change, you need to leave before me.”

 

     It takes him all of five minutes to get ready, a fact that she envies.  Stepping out of the bathroom, he holds out a black bow tie to her, looking sheepish.

 

     Repressing a smile, she upends his collar and takes the bow tie from his hand.

 

     “You play wife very well, Kingston,” he comments as she goes through the process of tying the bow tie.

     

    She hums, stepping out of his personal space to admire her work.  “Well I’ve done it before.”

 

     Matt frowns.  “What?  Played wife?”

 

     She smiles tightly, straightening the bow tie just a touch.  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

 

     He holds up his hand, still frowning.  “Wait.  You’re  _married_?”

 

     “No.  I  _was_  married.  Past tense.  Do try to keep up, darling.”

 

     His frown only deepens, as if not understanding what she’s saying.  “But what happened?”

 

     Sighing, she places a hand on her hip, waving her hand flippantly.  “Just...stuff.”

     

    Matt watches her seriously for a moment before his face breaks into a grin.  “Well lucky you’re married to me now, Robinson.”  He waggles his eyebrows at her, leaning into her space.  “Second time's the charm, you know.”

 

     Laughing, she shoves him back.  “More like never is the charm.  It's better I'm alone, really.”

 

     Matt frowns again.  “You’re not alone."  Then, grinning, he bops her on the nose.  "You have me."   

 

     Alex snorts.  “Oh yes.  What ever would I do without you, Mr. Robinson?”

 

     His grin widens.  “Probably waste away to nothing.”

 

     Rolling her eyes, Alex turns him around and shoves him toward the door.  “Just hurry up and leave before you’re late, Matthew.  I’ll see you on the yacht.”

 

     Giving her a mock salute, he exits the room, leaving her to prepare for the evening on her own.

 

XxX

 

     Two hours later sees Alex walking down the dock of the Loch Ness, a dress that looks as if it's made of liquid gold clinging to her curves and flitting about her ankles as she walks.  Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back in straight tresses, and the heels strapped uncomfortably to her feet are already killing her.  She thinks she much prefers loose clothing and her Chucks, but something tells her that’s not exactly the way to dress when trying to blend in with a group of wealthy criminals.

 

     The Canavar rests at the end of the dock, its lights illuminating the inky darkness of the Loch Ness, and the mountains that line either side of the Loch providing a rather spectacular sight.  The yacht itself is unnecessarily massive, two stories complete with a spacious, wrap-around deck and windows large enough to be doors- she’s sure its value greatly exceeds even that of her annual salary.

 

_Must be compensating_ , Alex thinks to herself as she smiles winningly at the well-muscled man who guards the ramp.  One full-bodied glance at her is all it takes for him to step aside, and yes, the slinky dress is definitely doing its job.

 

     Strains of classical music combined with the clinking of delicate glasses reach her ears as she steps aboard and is shown into a spacious room that opens out onto the front portion deck, where it seems the majority of people are already gathered.

 

     Seeing neither Worth or Matt, Alex slides easily into conversation with a group of suavely dressed men and women, silently profiling each one of them and wondering if any belong to the Assembly.

 

     It’s not long after the yacht pulls away from the dock and begins its tour of the Loch Ness does Worth make his appearance, dressed in a crisp suit and a drink in hand as he welcomes everyone aboard.  Alex feels the pace of her heart pick up, desperately wishing she could have gotten her hands on the blueprints of the yacht.  While Matt’s contact was able to get them both on board, his information regarding its layout was sadly lacking.

 

     Knowing she has until they re-dock to find the Assembly members- even if they do manage to steal from the vault, they have nowhere to go while floating in the middle of the Loch Ness- Alex attempts to calm herself.  It's a task that becomes endlessly more difficult the moment a large, warm hand settles on her lower back and she turns to see Edward Worth himself grinning handsomely at her.

 

     “May I offer you a drink?”  His voice is low and smooth, and with piercing blue eyes and a rather impressive build concealed under his fine suit, Alex can instantly see how people are near irresistible to his charm, regardless of his criminal status.  Too bad for him that she seems to find tall, lanky men with floppy hair and ridiculous grins infinitely more attractive.

 

     “That would be lovely,” she answers even as her heart sinks.  How is she supposed to slip away and scout out the location of the vault when Edward Worth is expecting her to hang off his arm?  Perhaps the dress is working a bit too well.

 

     “Excellent,” he replies, signaling the nearest waiter, and oh,  _there’s_  Matt.

 

     Matt advances toward them, looking the complete part of a waiter in his uniform tuxedo and a tray of wines perched on the tips of his fingers.  For a brief moment, Alex wishes that his contact would have been able to get him on-board as a guest, perhaps it could have been  _him_  she spent the evening beside instead.  Quickly, she banishes the thought from her head, berating herself for ever thinking it in the first place.

 

     Really it is quite lucky that Matt was set up as a waiter- he’ll be more invisible than any guest, and perhaps he will be able to slip away and find the vault himself now that her chances of doing that are slim to none.

 

     Matt’s eyes widen the moment his gaze settles on her, his eyes seeming to drift down her body without his consent, and Alex is unable to keep a smirk from playing across her lips in return.

 

     “A drink for the lady,” Worth speaks to Matt, who only nods mutely, his lips pressed tightly together and barely repressing a glare as Worth takes Alex’s arm and sweeps her onto the deck the moment a glass of wine is in her hand.  The little smile that plays across Alex’s lips has nothing to do with Worth’s attention and everything to do with a jealous Matt- not that she would ever admit it.

 

     The breeze that comes with being out on the deck is uncomfortable, the night air carrying a cold bite as winter approaches.  Worth engages her in conversation, a hand on her arm or back or shoulder nearly at all times, not that she pays it or him much attention, too busy trying to inconspicuously profile the other guests.

 

     Not a single guest sparks her interest, all of them seeming only incredibly wealthy and completely absorbed by putting as much expensive wine into their systems as possible.  The night wears on, minutes turning into hours and prompting Alex into wondering if the Assembly had really been planning their mission for tonight after all.  While it makes the most sense, there is no guarantee.

 

     Between her having to listen to Worth drone on about his priceless art collection- " _A good Vermeer or Rembrandt is much more stimulating than any work by that filthy Van Gogh, don't you think?_ "- trying to fend off the chill in the air, and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in her feet caused by those damnable heels, Alex begins to wish for the Assembly to make their move soon so she can do her job and climb into a warm bed.

 

     Turning her attention on the dark water for the umpteenth that night, Alex takes the liberty of moving the subject away from art.  “So why the Loch Ness?”

 

     “Pardon?”

 

     Leaning against the railing, she nods at the water and then glances at Worth.  “Why do you keep your yacht on the Loch Ness?”

 

     “I find it…intriguing.”  A smile curls the edges of his lips.  “Do you believe in monsters?”

 

     For a moment, Alex doesn’t respond, gazing out and appreciating the view of the surrounding mountains, the outline of Urquhart Castle, and the reflection of the moon on the water from this vantage point. 

 

     “Yes,” she finally answers.  "I most definitely do."

 

     Worth hums, and when he smiles, Alex is shaken by the malice that lies behind his eyes.  In the next moment, his warmth returns and his smile loosens back into one of easy confidence, his expression changing so suddenly that she convinces herself she must have imagined it all.  The man opens his mouth to respond, Alex finding herself intrigued as to what he has to say next, but his response is lost as they’re both distracted by the high-pitched hum of a swiftly approaching personal watercraft.  It seems her earlier wish is finally coming true.

 

     Squinting, she can barely make out the white form of a jet-ski, though there’s not much time for her to put thought into it before there’s a crashing sound coming from the other end of the yacht, her position at the front deck giving her the perfect view as two figures stumble out onto the starboard section.

 

     Though both men wear waiter uniforms, Alex instantly recognizes one of them as Matt.  Her heart suddenly feels as if it has been replaced by thundering horses.  For a moment she only stands there frozen, watching as the two men take swings at one another.

 

     “You’re going to have to excuse me, dear,” speaks Worth from her side, his face grim.  Alex pays him little attention as he quickly strides away, too focused on the two struggling men at the opposite end of the yacht.

 

     The moment she sees that the other man has a briefcase in his hand is the moment it clicks- he’s already been to the vault and is planning to make his escape with the help of the man on the approaching jet-ski, something Worth must have already assumed and is investigating.  Hands shaking and stomach churning, Alex reaches for the hem of her dress and rips.  Its tears only a little, and she swears as she tugs harder at the material.  After three strong pulls, the material is split up to her thigh, giving her the mobility she needs.  Immediately, she throws herself into a sprint.

 

     As she takes her first running step, she looks on in horror as the man from the Assembly lands a successful whack to Matt's head with the briefcase.  Immediately, Matt crumples to the deck in a motionless heap.  Alex's heart stalls, but she forces her legs to carry her forward as fast as they can, despite the screaming protest of her feet.  Not yet to them, she can only watch helplessly as the man uses his foot to shove Matt’s unmoving body through the open portion of the railing and into the dark water the below.

 

     With only three easy strides until she collides with Briefcase Man- who isn’t even paying her a bit of attention- everything seems to slow as she realizes there two different paths based on two different decisions.

 

     Path One:  She keeps her course and barrels directly into Briefcase Man, successfully knocking him to the floor.  Pressing her forearm against his throat, she would deprive him of enough air to leave him unconscious and unable to make his grand escape.  Best Possible outcome:  Assembly member captured; Agent Smith lost.

 

     Path Two:  She jumps the railing and dives into the water in the hopes that unconscious Matt hasn’t sunk beyond her reach.  Best possible outcome:  Agent Smith rescued; the Assembly successfully completes their mission.

 

     The decision is a simple one.  Her agent always comes first.

 

     Briefcase Man barely grazes her shoulder as he begins to sprint in the opposite direction.  Alex grips the railing with one hand and throws all of her weight into hopping over it.

 

     In this moment, her brain seems to work faster than time, calculating the angle she needs to enter the water even as her body rounds the top of the yacht’s railing.  Knowing that simply jumping into the water will not give her the momentum she needs to catch a sinking Matt, Alex holds onto the railing for a moment longer, using a fraction of a second to arch her body back down as she falls over the other side.  The soles of her shoes collide on the second rung of the railing.  Like a spring, her knees bend and her hand releases the railing as she propels herself forward into a messy dive.

 

     For a brief second, wind rushes in her ears, her hair flies behind her, and she has only a moment to inhale deeply and hold it.  Then, she hits the water.

 

     Her lungs all but seize in her chest, the shock of the freezing temperature of the water sending sharp pains coursing through her nerves.  Ignoring the pain, she kicks herself deeper, not daring to change her angle in fear of just narrowly missing Matt.  To keep him from drowning, she knows this one shot is all she has.

 

     A moment of pure terror grips her, then relief as her extended hands finally collide with Matt’s torso, her fingers immediately gripping onto his shirt.  With his weight added onto hers, resurfacing takes twice as long as it should.  Her legs kick against the drag of the water with as much force as she can muster, her lungs all but screaming in the moment before she breaks into blessed air.

 

     Gasping and greedily breathing in lungfuls of air, Alex halls Matt up so his head is above the surface.  Thanks to the narrow nature of the Loch and the position of the yacht when she jumped, it takes Alex but a few minutes to reach shore, though it feels like hours.  She collapses with Matt onto the rocky sand the moment they’re far enough in, the water lapping up to their calves.

 

     Panting heavily, Alex bends over a still unconscious and now unbreathing Matt, folding her hands over his chest as she begins to pump.  It takes a few agonizing moments, but it seems that Lady Luck is most definitely on their side tonight as he sputters up water and inhales deeply, though still unconscious.

 

     Flopping back onto the sand, Alex wipes at her brow with one hand and fishes her mobile out of her dress with the other, thankful for both the bra that kept it securely in place and for the MI6 technology that protected it from being harmed by the water.

 

     Relief washes over her for the first time that evening as Sir’s voice rumbles across the line, knowing help will arrive within minutes.

 

XxX

 

     It’s probable that the Assembly would search nearby hospitals for a patient matching Matt’s description and injuries, so they opt to treat him in their hotel room, paying a doctor a generous sum to do so.  Off the books, of course.

 

     Having yet to change out of her still-wet dress, Alex ignores her own shivering as she frets with the blankets they have Matt wrapped in.  Lying on the bed, Matt looks like he could be sleeping, and while she knows that’s not true, it is a comforting thought nonetheless.

 

     “He’s going to be fine, Alex.”

 

     Alex whirls at the sound of Sir’s voice, eyes widening when she sees him standing in the doorway.  “You’re here.”

 

     “Of course I’m here.”  Sir glances at the doctor, who’s currently re-checking Matt’s vitals one last time before he leaves, everything he could do having already been done.

 

     Sir rests a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “The doctor called me and filled me in on my way over- he’s going to be  _fine_ , Alex.”  Alex only nods mutely and allows Sir to nudge her in the direction of the bathroom.  “Get yourself in some dry clothing.  I’ll keep an eye on him.”

 

     With her heart still feeling stuck in her throat, Alex nods her thanks to the doctor, knowing he will have left by the time she returns.  Dazedly, she grabs a fresh set of clothing before closing herself behind the bathroom door.

 

     Sitting on the edge of the tub, Alex closes her eyes and allows herself to really breathe for the first time in what feels like hours.  The entire evening had turned into a disaster.  Her job is to protect her agent and to protect the mission.  She failed at both.

 

     Running head-long into a situation as unprepared as they were was possibly the stupidest thing she could have done.   _She_  wasn’t even supposed to be on the damn yacht.  Their crunch for time was the only reason Sir had given her clearance for her to be directly in the field.

 

     Sighing, Alex stands, ignoring the protest of her tired muscles and slowing peeling the wet dress from her body.  Once her knickers and bra join her dress on the floor, Alex wraps herself in a soft, fluffy towel, pulling it tightly around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to both warm and comfort herself.

 

     Glancing up, she catches a glimpse of her reflection and scowls, her hair damp but having already returned to its unruly mess.  She’s just contemplating if she’s ready to tackle the process of washing it, knowing it will be more difficult than normal thanks to the water from the Loch, when there’s a soft knock at the door.

 

     “Alex?”  Sir’s voice rumbles from the other side.  “He’s awake.”

 

     Immediately she drops the towel to the floor and forgets about any ideas of getting herself clean, quickly pulling on a pair of soft leggings and an over-sized jumper.

 

     Throwing open the door, she nearly bumps right into Sir.  “He’s asking for you,” Sir states, throwing a glance back at Matt before his attention returns to her.  Something in his expression hardens as he takes in the open concern on her face, but a moment later it's replaced with a warm smile.  "I’ll call for an update tomorrow, okay?”

 

     Alex nods, skirting past him and all but rushing to Matt’s side, not paying Sir the least bit of attention as he sees himself out.  Relief washes over her at the sight of Matt’s eyes open and lopsided grin in place, though he does look incredibly exhausted regardless of his near-constant cheery demeanor.

 

     “Kingston,” Matt speaks, voice a bit rough as he reaches for her.  “Come sit with me on my sick bed.”

 

     Having to repress a roll of her eyes, Alex slips her hand in his and gently settles herself on the edge of the mattress.  “You’re going to milk this for everything you can, aren’t you?”

 

     Matt’s eyes widen in faux innocence.  “Didn’t you hear, Kingston?  I nearly died.”

 

     Despite the playfulness of Matt’s tone, his statement causes her to close her eyes against the mere thought, preferring to push it as far back in her mind as possible.

 

     “Hey,” Matt speaks softly, poking her in the side and grinning when he’s rewarded with a glare.  “From what Sir told me, you’re my hero, Kingston.”

 

     “No,” she snaps.  “I’m the one who put you in the situation in the first place.  If I had prepared you better-”

 

     “Alex,” Matt interrupts sternly, effectively halting her words as he frowns at her.  “We both know that had we not been on that yacht tonight we would have never forgiven ourselves.  Is it great that they got away again?  No, but we’ll sure as hell get them next time.”

 

     Deflating, Alex sighs softly.  “You’re right.”

 

     “’Course I’m right.”

 

     Absentmindedly, she reaches out and lightly brushes the fringe of his floppy hair from his eyes.  “How are you feeling?”

 

     He shrugs, leaning into her touch enough to alert her of her own actions.  “Head hurts.”

 

     Instead of moving away, she continues to watch him, frozen as a sudden pain fills her chest and tears prick behind her eyes.  She is so unbelievably relieved that not only is he alive, but he’s going to be just fine.

 

     “Alex?”  Matt looks at her in alarm and she waves him off, the lump in her throat seeming to double in size.

 

     Of course Matt doesn’t let it slip past without concern like she had hoped.  Instead, he crushes her to him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.  And if she’s honest, this man is more comforting than any sort of fluffy towel could ever hope to be.

 

     With her face buried by his neck, Alex closes her eyes and whispers, “You scared me.”

 

     His arms tighten briefly around her before he answer lightly, “Well  _you_  scared  _me_.”

 

     Frowning, she pulls back to look at him and finds him smiling teasingly.  “All that attention from Worth?  I was worried he was going to try to add you to his private collection.”

 

     Alex smirks.  “Jealous, darling?”

 

     “You have no idea, Kingston.”

 

     She laughs brightly and Matt grins.

 

     “There is one good thing that came out of tonight, though,” Matt notes.

 

     Alex arches a brow and his grin widens as he reaches up and tugs at one of her curls.  “Your hair has been returned to its rightful glory.”

 

     Rolling her eyes, Alex bats his hand away.  “You’re ridiculous.”

 

     “ _No_.  You straightening your hair is what’s ridiculous.  But should you lose your senses again, I’ll know how to fix it.”

 

     Alex snorts.  “By getting yourself knocked unconscious and kicked into a body of water so I have to come after you?”

 

     Matt nods solemnly.  “It’s a tough job but someone has to look after you, Kingston.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~~~~


	4. let your heart be light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has only been a week since Scotland, but Alex is...pouting. No other word for it, really. She sits at her kitchen table, mug of coffee going cold in her hands as she stares glumly out the window. The mid-December sky is grey and cloudy as evening nears, a perfect match to her mood. No new riddle, and subsequently, no Agent Smith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaayyyyy I said I was going to update on Christmas, and then I realized I was going to be quite busy tomorrow, so I decided to update today!! I wrote most of this chapter earlier in the year, and honestly I'm gagged that I get to post it during Christmas time. It fits perfectly!
> 
> Mostly fluff this time y'all, hope you enjoy~
> 
> Chapter title from Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Judy Garland

   

 

     It has only been a week since Scotland, but Alex is...pouting.  No other word for it, really.

     She sits at her kitchen table, mug of coffee going cold in her hands as she stares glumly out the window.  The mid-December sky is grey and cloudy as evening nears, a perfect match to her mood.  No new riddle, and subsequently, no Agent Smith.

     They have known each other for how long?  A little more than a month?  But Alex has already gotten used to his presence in her life.  His snoring on her sofa, his thigh touching hers because he sits so close, the smile that blooms across his face every time she looks at him.  Without it, without _him_ , she is pouting.  Her flat feels too quiet.  Her _life_ feels too quiet.

     Alex frowns down at her cold coffee.  Is she...pining?  She scoffs.  He's pretty, of course.  You'd have to be blind not to see that.  And if she's dreamt about those long fingers on her skin, who can blame her?  But  _pining_?  Definitely not.

     Her communicator lies on the table, just inches away from her hand and taunting her to pick it up.  Maybe she could text him.  Just to check in.

     Alex rolls her eyes at herself and stands, abandoning both her coffee and the communicator.  She's _not_  pining, remember?  She doesn't need to check in.

     Just as she takes a step to exit the kitchen, her communicator gives a soft _ding_.  She likes to think herself a strong woman, but only someone much stronger than she would be able resist rushing back to the table.  A grin covers Alex's face as she picks up the communicator and reads _One new message from Agent Smith_.  Swiping across the screen, she opens it.

      _You owe me (:_

     Smiling, Alex plops back into her seat as she begins to type.

      _How do you figure?_

_You stood me up on our date!!_

_It wasn't a date._

_A not-date, then_

Quickly followed by:  _Still, you owe me!_

_Saving you from drowning wasn't enough?_

_Not even close, Kingston (:_

_And how would you like me to pay off my debt?_

_Meet me somewhere?_

Alex pauses, rereading his message and biting on her bottom lip.  Is this...?

      _I can hear you fretting.  It can be a not-date (:_

Alex's shoulders relax in relief, and she ignores the small, silly part of her that feels disappointed.

      _Where?_

Matt sends the address.

      _Now?_

_Now (: (: (:_

XxX

     Alex has been to the Columbia Road Flower Market many times, but never during the Christmas season, and never at night.  Matt waves excitedly as she approaches.  Alex laughs, her breath appearing in clouds before her.

     Noting the ridiculous beanie atop his head- stripes with a pom pom at the very top- she greets, "What in the name of sanity have you got on your head?"

     "You like it?"  He asks, pulling the cap from his head, and pieces of his hair stick up from the static.

     Before she can respond, Matt is shoving the beanie over the top of her curls.  He takes a step back, serious expression across his face as he looks her over.  Laughing, Alex strikes a pose.

     "Oh yeah," speaks Matt.  "It looks much better on you."

     Even as she rolls her eyes, she can't help the smile that is spread across her face.  "Ridiculous," she mutters.

     "You like it."

     "Maybe."

     "Definitely," Matt counters, grin in place as he offers her his arm.

     She can't bring herself to argue- after all, just an hour earlier she was moping around purely because she was without him.  Not that he needs to know that.  Ever.  So instead of arguing, Alex takes his arm and they walk toward the shops.

     Tables and carts and stands with umbrellas line the streets, people crowding in the center as they shop.  But tonight, something about the market seems more extraordinary than usual.  The chill in the air brings the promise of snow.  Icicle lights hang from the buildings and add to the soft glow of the street lamps.  The stalls are filled with everything Christmas- wreaths, Christmas cacti, beautiful red and white poinsettias.  In the distance, she can hear carols being sung by a choir.  It smells like pine, Matt is warm and comforting next to her, and something about it all seems...magical.

     "So why are we here?"  Alex asks after they pass one stall after another without stopping.

     Matt gestures down to the very end of the street.  "Christmas tree shopping."

     The trees are tucked into an alley off the main street, and it feels like a forest in the middle of the city.  The evergreens tower above them, lined in perfect rows.  The branches stretch across the narrow aisles to gently brush at those who pass.  Strings of fairy lights weave just above the tree tops.  It is hushed within the trees, the rest of the market seeming to disappear.

     They're only barely within the trees when Matt stops to critically eye one before him.  "What do you think?"

     "Beautiful, but too tall," Alex says.  "It would bend at the ceiling."

     "Good thinking." 

     Matt takes her hand and leads her deeper into the tiny forest.

     They stop at another, but while Matt has his eyes on the tree, Alex has her eyes on him.  A crease forms between his brow, and his lips are set in a serious line as he studies the tree.  His cheeks are rosy from the cold.  He must feel her gaze because he turns his head to look at her, a smile crossing his face. 

     God, he's beautiful.

     Clearing her throat, Alex quickly looks away.  Heat crawls up her cheeks from being caught, and she hopes he'll attribute her blush to the cold.

     Avoiding his gaze, she looks at the tree and says, "You don't want this one either."

     Thankfully, he doesn't mention the staring, but the smile is still on his face as he returns his attention to the tree.  "It looks perfect."

     "Yes, but," Alex grips one of the branches and pulls.  Opening her palm, she reveals the needles that have fallen off.  "It won't last until Christmas."

     Matt frowns.  "How did you know?"

     She shrugs.  "I like to garden."

     His brows raise.  "Agent Kingston, one of the deadliest agents in the field, likes to _garden_?"

     "And?"

     "Nothing," Matt replies with a grin.  "I'm just surprised.  Besides, I didn't see a garden when I was at your flat before."

     "Well, my last mission-"  She waves her hand.  "Everything died."

     "Well, good thing you're around or I'd have a dead tree in my house." 

     "Good thing," Alex agrees, moving onto a tree a little further away.  "What about this one?"

     When Matt answers his gaze is on her instead of the tree.  "Gorgeous."

     Alex raises a brow.  "You didn't even look."

     A mischievous smile crosses his face.  "Well, not at the tree."

     She tries to glare, but the smile at her lips ruins the effect.  "Flirting, Agent Smith?"

     Matt ducks his head, his hair flopping into his eyes.  "Maybe just a little."

     Alex hums, ignoring the pleased smile on her face as she looks back at the tree.  "Let's get this one."

     Together, they lug the tree out of the market and get it tied to the top of Matt's car.  Alex wipes the needles from her hands and grins at the ridiculous amount of string they used.  "I don't think you'll have any problems with it falling off, darling."

     Matt shares her grin.  "I think you're right, Kingston.  Now come on, get in."

     Alex blinks.  "What?"

     "Oh, did you bring your car?"  He glances around the parking lot, looking for that bright orange.

     "No..." Alex answers slowly.  "I took the train."

     "Well then get in."

     "But-"

     "Oh," Matt says with a grin as he opens the driver's door.  "Your debt hasn't quite been paid off, Kingston.  You have to help me decorate it."

     "And then am I done?"  She asks as she slips into the passenger's side, trying to seem more put out than she actually feels.

     "Definitely not."  Matt starts the car.  "Someone has to tree-sit with me."

     "Tree-sit?"

     "What's the point of getting a tree if you're not going to sit and enjoy it?"

     Alex looks out the window so he doesn't see her smile.  "I suppose I can't argue with that."

XxX

     An incessant banging on her flat door at six in the morning has her stumbling blearily down her hallway and away from her nice warm bed.  Grabbing a handheld gun from inside her foyer table, Alex unlocks her door and swings it open.  Instantly, the December chill nips at her skin, sending goosebumps up her legs and across her arms.  

     She glares at the man standing on the other side of the threshold.  “Matt, I swear to god if you’re here at six in the bloody morning for anything less than the world ending, this is not going to end well for you.”

     Matt stands there looking bright-eyed and eager to embrace the day, a quality that makes Alex grit her teeth and resist the oh-so-tempting urge to punch him right in his stupidly attractive face.  His eyes drift over her form, and maybe she should feel more self-conscious standing before him in nothing more than an old t-shirt and a pair of pink cotton knickers, but the light blush that spreads beautifully over his cheeks extinguishes any thought of wanting to play modest.

     When his gaze lands on the gun in her hand his eyes immediately snap back to hers.  “Um…the world’s ending?”  He tries, but the sheepish look on his face tells her it is anything but.

     Sighing, she leans against the door frame.  “Try again.”

     Matt holds out his hands instead, one gripping a cup of coffee and the other a small brown paper bag as he watches her timidly, as if she might bite- an idea she would like to put more thought into than she cares to admit.  “I brought coffee and a muffin?”

     Immediately straightening, Alex moves to place her gun on the entryway table before taking his peace offering and heading into her kitchen, expecting him to follow and smirking to herself when she feels his eyes glued to her bum.

     Hopping onto the counter top, she rummages in the bag for her muffin, glancing up to see Matt seemingly stuck in the doorway of the kitchen.  He watches her with that wide-eyed look that makes her want to do despicable things to him.

     Pushing those thoughts away, Alex quirks a brow at him.  “What?”

     He startles, squeaking out, “Nothing!”  Clearing his throat, he gestures toward her.  “It’s…erm…aren’t you going to, um, put on clothing or…something?”

     “I already have on clothing, Matthew,” Alex responds, popping a delicious piece of blueberry muffin into her mouth and somehow managing to smirk at him even as she chews happily.

     “Right.  I just- I just meant  _more_  clothing.”

     Alex slips down from her position on the counter, secretly delighting in watching his eyes drift down her legs.  Stepping into his space and inwardly applauding him for standing his ground, she runs her hand from his shoulder and down to grip the lapel of his jacket.  She looks up at him innocently.  “Is it bothering you, darling?”

    Alex expects him to turn tomato red and nearly trip over himself in an attempt to back away from her.  But he doesn't.  Instead, Matt's warm hazel eyes turn dark with something that causes her breath to hitch and her smirk to fall.  One hand gently settles at the indent of her waist, the other moving to rest on the small of her back, gently tugging her just an inch closer.  She leans into him willingly.  His thumb slips under the hem of her shirt, his fingers spreading out over the band of her knickers, and his warm touch sends a shiver down her spine.

    Matt drops his forehead to hers, and Alex closes her eyes.  They stand there, sharing the same space and the same air for what seems like forever.  Alex is hyper aware of his hands on her body, and the way he seems to be restraining himself.  

     Matt swallows tightly and finally speaks in a low voice, “Such a tease, Alex.”

     Her heart stutters at his words, her fingers curling into the material of his jacket and knowing that all she would have to do is lean in and kiss those beautifully pouty lips and it would all be over.  She would have him right here on her kitchen floor before the sun even rose.

     Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Alex gathers all of her will and forces herself to take a step back, out of his personal space and where the air feels lighter.  His gaze is intense, eyes burning into hers with a desire that nearly makes her go weak at the knees.  He wants her.  She wants him.  There’s really not much else to it except that she is his handler and he is her agent and this  _cannot_  happen.

    "We can't, Matt."  Her voice is whisper, and the words sound weak to her ears.  This is her only attempt at resistance, she knows.  If he were to give her some sort of alternative, she would break and they would have to pick up the pieces after she finally got to feel his skin on hers.

     The disappointment that resonates in her chest is struck across Matt's face.  He nods, and his lips pull up in a tight smile.  "I know."

     “I’ll find my dressing gown,” she speaks quietly as she moves past him and tries to shake the thought that she wishes he had given a different answer.

     When Alex returns, robe tied securely at her waist, her mouth drops open at the sight before her.  "You're eating my muffin!"

     Matt grins unrepentantly, and suddenly the tension in the air seems to have been lifted. 

     “Only half,” he manages to reply around a mouthful of muffin.

     Alex glares, pulling off a piece from their now-shared muffin to eat.  “Next time buy two muffins, Matthew.”

     Matt raises a thin brow.  “You’re saying I’m allowed to come bother you at six in the morning as long as I have muffins?”

     “Depends.  Why are you even here?  The Assembly’s next riddle isn't up, and I tree-sat with you just yesterday- you can’t be wasting away from missing me already.”

     Matt pouts at her.  “Not true, Kingston.  I waste away every second you’re not in my presence.”

     Alex’s only response is to roll her eyes.

     "Besides, of course I'm here!  It's _Christmas_."

     She blinks.  "Oh yeah, I guess it is."

     Matt gapes at her.  "Christmas is the best holiday of the year and you  _forgot?"_

"Well we've been a little busy with the whole unknown-organization-trying-to-rob-England-blind thing, remember?"

     He tsks.  "That's no excuse, Kingston."  Without waiting for a response, he forges on, "But I'm here because my mum's having a Christmas party."

     Confused, Alex answers, "That's nice, darling."

     Matt nods.  “I've had to miss a number of her parties in the past because of one mission or another- but I thought..."  He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly up at her through his fringe.  "Well, we’re just sitting around waiting on the Assembly to put up their next riddle, we might as well go, right?”

     Alex holds up her hand.  “Wait.   _We_?”

     “Yes, Kingston.   _We_.”

XxX

     His mother is a whirlwind.  The moment they arrive in North Hampton and step out of the car, his mother is out of the house, rushing toward them and immediately squashing Matt into a hug with an, “About time you got home!”

     “I got here as fast as I could, Mum, honestly.  I had to stop and pick up Alex.”

     His mother’s gaze finally lands on Alex, standing just behind Matt.  She gasps, eyes wide as she whacks Matt in the shoulder.  “You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone!”

     Alex’s jaw drops, glaring at Matt but not having time to get out her own reprimand before she’s enveloped in a hug by Matt’s mother.

     “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.  I’m Lynn.”

     “Alex,” Alex returns with a smile.

     Lynn slips her arm through Alex’s.  “You’ll have to forgive me for any prying questions, dear, but I have a son who leaves me in the dark about his life.”  Her tone is one of put upon misery and Matt gapes.  

     “That’s not true!”

     Lynn pouts at Matt and ah,  _that’s_  where he gets it from.  “You didn’t even tell me you were seeing someone, Matthew, yet alone that it was serious enough for you to bring her  _home_.”

     “Actually-” Alex starts, but is cut off by Matt’s exaggerated huff.  “It’s only been a few weeks.”

     For the second time within five minutes, Alex feels like her jaw is on the ground.

     Lynn sniffs.  “I am your  _mother_ , Matthew.  A few days is too long to be left in the dark, yet alone a few weeks.  Now,” Lynn speaks to Alex, "Come along, dear.  Everyone will just love to meet you." 

     Too stunned by Matt's words to resist, Alex is pulled up the stairs and into the house.  When she glances back at Matt, he gives her a sheepish shrug.  Oh.  He is in  _so_ much trouble.

     Alex is introduced to Matt’s father, David, who only raises his brow at Matt before giving a warm greeting.  Then she meets Laura and her husband, the girl a rather exotic kind of beautiful and instantly recognizable as Matt’s sibling.  Alex finds herself in another hug the moment they’re introduced, but it is only brief as Laura pulls away to whack Matt on the shoulder for not telling her he was with someone.   _Like mother, like daughter_ , Alex thinks.

     Despite her brief amusement, all of it begins to make Alex feel a bit ill, and the moment she deems it proper she drags Matt into an adjacent room of the house, hissing out, “What the  _hell_ , Matthew?”

     To his credit, Matt at least looks guilty, wincing at her tone. 

     “What were you thinking?”

     “I  _wasn’t_ ,” he answers in an exasperated tone.  “But if I had told her we met through our work she would have asked questions we both know I wouldn’t be able to answer.”

     “Well you should have lied about our jobs, not our bloody relationship status!”

     “Look, I’m sorry.  It just- I dunno- It just  _happened_.  I had to make a quick decision and obviously it was the wrong one.  But with the way my mother is she would’ve believed we were together regardless.”

     Alex puts her hands on her hips, narrowing her gaze.  “Then why did you even want to bring me, Matt?”

     His shoulders slump, a wounded expression filling those wide puppy eyes.  At that look, Alex feels a twinge of regret at her biting tone, but she stands her ground.

     For a moment she thinks that he's going to give an honest answer, but then a flirtatious grin appears across his face.  "Come on Kingston, playing my other half can't possibly be that bad.  Besides, after Scotland you have plenty of practice."

     "That was for the mission and you know it, Matthew.  And it was only so we could get a hotel room!  This is different," Alex insists.

     "Wasn't talking about the room, Alex," Matt responds with an infuriatingly smug grin.  "I meant all the worrying you did after I nearly drowned.  You fretted for days.  Even cooked me dinner.  Very wifely of you, Kingston."

     A flush burns at her cheeks as she glares at him.  "I hate you."

     Somehow, Matt's grin widens.  "You don't."

XxX

     She doesn't bring it up again, against giving Matt any reason to remind her that maybe she cares a little too much.  Not that she does.  She cares exactly the right amount.

 _Very wifely of you, Kingston_.

     Alex scoffs at Matt's words ringing in her ears.  Any sane person would have worried about his well-being just as much as she did, she reasons.  Pushing away the traitorous response of  _liar_  that her mind supplies, Alex puts on a grin and throws herself into playing the part of Matt's other half.  It can't possibly be that difficult.

     Except it is.  Two hours later and she feels as if she's being driven spare.  He's constantly touching her- a hand resting lightly at the small of her back, fingers playing with her curls, a warm palm resting just above her knee when they're sitting close together.  It's maddening.

     And now he stands next to her as she prepares the cake that will serve as the evening's dessert, invading her space with no thought to boundaries.  She had volunteered her baking services in an attempt to get away from Matt and the growing urge to lean in and kiss his ridiculous face.  Not that she doesn't welcome the attention, it's just becoming increasingly more difficult to keep space between them. 

     It makes it all the worse knowing that they both want it.  Maybe not a  _relationship,_ but neither of them would turn down the opportunity for a good shag, she's sure.  After all, she was nearly prepared to push him into her bed just this morning.  Or more accurately, onto the floor.

     Her cheeks flush at the memory.

    A conversation carries on around her, but Alex finds herself too distracted to participate.  Matt stops toying with a curl at her neck and begins to devote his attention to trailing his fingers down her spine.  The touch is light, but enough to make her shiver.  From the corner of her eye she sees him wearing a smug grin, and Alex glares down into her mixing bowl.  Bastard.

    Something Laura says causes Matt to laugh, and he leans against the counter as he responds, finally giving Alex an inch of space to breathe in.

    "So," Matt's mother starts as Alex pours the batter into the pan.  "How'd you two meet?"

    Alex tenses, looking at Matt nervously as she wipes her hands on a dishcloth.  Matt smiles easily at her, a fond light in his eyes as he says, "On a train."

    Not a lie, Alex thinks.  Her shoulders relax as she finds herself returning his smile.  "He bought me a drink."

    "Then she asked me to dinner."  His grin turns mischievous.  "And stood me up."

    Alex gasps and whaps him with the dishcloth.  "First of all, that wasn't even a date!"

    "Agree to disagree, Kingston."

    Alex rolls her eyes and opens the oven for the cake.  The conversation moves on as she slips the pan inside and closes the door.  As she stands, Matt gently tugs her into his side and presses his lips to her temple in a soft kiss.  He lingers there, Alex's eyes fluttering shut as she leans into him willingly.  When he moves back, she finds that she wants to grip onto his shirt and keep him there with her.  Instead, she stands there looking at him with wide eyes and a lump in her throat.  Such a small act of intimacy has completely shaken her.  

     Matt winks at her as if to say,  _just part of the game, Kingston_.  Swallowing hard, Alex turns her gaze from him and silently repeats that to herself. 

     Just part of the game.

XXX

     Dinner is delicious, the food comforting, and the company even more so.  Alex feels utterly content as Matt takes her hand and pulls her into the den with the rest of the family.  A Christmas tree shines in the corner, casting the room in a soft glow.  They plop onto the sofa and Lynn sits in the middle of the floor with the duty of passing out presents.

    Matt drapes an arm around her shoulder and Alex tucks into his side, her cheeks heating only a little.  They're supposed to be a couple, after all.

    It's too easy, Alex thinks to herself as the next hour passes in ripped wrapping paper and laughter.  It's just  _too easy_  to play this part.  Matt is warm at her side, constantly bestowing smiles that chip away at the stone wall protecting her heart.  A wall she thought could withstand anything.  She adores his family, she loves the feel of his hand in hers, and while it's all seemingly perfect, she hates it a little bit, too.

     Her gaze drifts to the man at her side.  She could never seriously contemplate the idea of her and Matt, but in this moment?  God, she wants to.

     Matt turns his head toward her, and grins when he finds her already watching him.  "Come on, Kingston," he says as he stands, taking her hand and pulling her up with him.

     Matt leads her to the edge of the room, just under the threshold that opens to the kitchen.  His eyes dart to his family, as if wanting to make sure they're not watching.  Then, he bestows her with a sheepish grin.

     Confused, Alex smiles and asks, "What?"

     Matt ducks his head and presents her with a small box.  "Happy Christmas, Kingston."

    She feels the smile drop from her face as she carefully takes the box, as if it might break.  It's small, about the right size for a piece of jewelry, like a bracelet or a dainty necklace.  Alex lightly touches the curled ribbon keeping the lid snug on the box.  She glances back up at Matt, feeling a lump form in her throat and unsure exactly what to say.

    He smiles.  "Just open it."

    Alex pulls at the red ribbon and gently removes the lid.  Instantly, a smile pushes at her face.  It's a small packet of seeds.

    "For your garden," Matt explains quickly.  When she looks up, she delights in the light flush across his cheeks.  "I thought...maybe it could be like a new start?  Or something.  And maybe- maybe I could help you plant them?  I dunno- just a thought."

    His hand rubs at the back of his neck, a sure tell of his nerves.  He watches her hopefully, and all Alex can do is smile brightly in return.  Her heart feels lighter than it has in ages, like it's been displaced out of her chest to the space above her head.  Her words fail her, so she acts instead, throwing her arms around Matt's neck.

    "Thank you, Matt," Alex manages in a whisper by his ear.

    His arms wrap strongly around her waist.  "You're welcome, Kingston."

    The seconds tick, but both seem loathe to move.  Alex's face is pressed into his neck, and Matt holds her as if his arms have always belonged around her.  It's...intimate.  And a far cry from professional, but somehow they crossed that boundary long ago.

    "Oooooo," calls Laura, causing them to part.  Matt's sister grins at them.  "Looks like someone's found the mistletoe."

    Instinctively, Alex looks up.  Sure enough, a ball of mistletoe hangs just above them.  She pins Matt with a glare.

    He laughs, holding up his hands.  "Don't look at me!  I didn't know it was there."

    Something about his smug grin tells her differently. 

     "I'm supposed to believe that I'm just lucky, then?"

    Matt takes her hand in his, dark eyes holding hers as he presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

     "The luckiest," he murmurs.

     Since Alex stepped out of Matt's car this morning and was announced as his significant other, the day has been nothing but... surreal.  They were no longer Agent Smith and Agent Kingston, teamed up together on a dangerous mission.  They were just Matt and Alex.  Together.  The end.

     These past few hours have been a moment separate from their actual lives.  A page ripped from their book.  It feels like a free pass, so why shouldn't she take advantage of it?

    Her heart pounds in her chest as she whispers, "I'm not sure that counted as a kiss, darling."

     At her words, Matt tugs her just a bit closer to her him, and Alex can see her own want reflected in his eyes.  Swallowing, she allows her eyes to dart to his lips before meeting his gaze again, trying to convince herself that it's fine.  It'll be okay.  After all, it's  _just part of the game_ , right?  And then she'll never have to wonder what kissing Agent Smith is like ever again.  It's a win-win, honestly.

     A small step forward and her chest is brushing against his, and she now has to tilt her head up to look at him properly.  Matt settles a hand at the small of her back, securing her place against him as his other hand slips into her hair, his fingers tangling into her curls.  Her eyes flutter closed just briefly, a smile flitting across her lips as he leans down to her.  With one hand at his shoulder, fingers curled into the material of his shirt, her other hand finds the back of his neck as she presses even closer to him.

     Everything else suddenly ceases to exist.  There is no family watching them, no mission to invade her thoughts, no rules to scream against their actions.  

     She is a fraction of a second away from kissing him, nearly shuddering in anticipation when she feels his breath on her lips.  And then-  

     Matt's communicator goes off, a harsh shrill that startles them away from one another like they had just been doused in freezing water.

     While Matt digs the communicator out of his pocket, studiously avoiding her gaze, Alex attempts to catch her breath and will away the flush that has suddenly spread over her cheeks.  When he meets her eyes, his face suddenly grim, she knows without him having to say a word.

     The next riddle is up.

XxX

     Somehow, Alex is sleeping.  With everything that happened today, at his parents' and then with the Assembly sending their next riddle, Matt doesn't understand how she could possibly get any sleep.  But there she is, curled in the passenger seat of his car, head resting against the window, and fast asleep.  He loathes to wake her, knowing that the moment he does she's likely not to rest again until the riddle has been solved.

     And oh, what a riddle it is.  Four simple lines, just as always.  But this time it has a rather unsettling twist at the end: 

**_Started by Greatness and owned by the Chest,_ **

**_Where Isaac guarded is the next set._ **

**_To stay away would be in your best interest,_ **

**_Two deaths at our hands would make not a difference._ ** 

     With every thump of his heart, Matt feels those words reverberate in his ears.

_Two deaths._

_Two deaths._

_Two deaths._

     This riddle game of theirs may have started out as nothing but arrogant taunting, but now, after how close Matt was to stopping their man in Scotland, he knows that the Assembly is not going to take any more chances.

     Glancing over at Alex, his throat constricts as he contemplates the idea of any harm coming to even one of those curls.  His worrying is silly, and more than likely unwanted, he knows.  She's _Agent Kingston_ , for christ's sake.  She can handle herself. 

     Still, his concern lingers.

     "You've gone and woken me with all your worrying," speaks Alex from next him, her voice heavy with sleep as she blinks blearily at him.

     Matt scoffs, grinning at her.  "I've done nothing of the sort, Kingston.  Go back to sleep."

     "I would, but I can feel your fretting all the way over here and I'd rather not be woken up again."

     "I'm not _fretting_ ," he insists.

     "Well whatever you want to call it, _stop_.  It's our job to be in danger, you're being ridiculous."

     "I know," Matt admits.  "I just..."

     "Just what?"

     Knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel, he bites back all the things he wants to say.  "Nothing."

     Out of his peripheral vision, Matt watches as Alex narrows her eyes at his vague response.  He chooses not to elaborate- anything he would say, any truth, would do nothing but widen the gap that Alex is so insistent on having between them.  Not that he can blame her.  Too many missions have been compromised due to illicit handler/agent relations.

     To his relief, Alex doesn't push him, and says instead, "Today was fun."  She is smiling now, and Matt's heart sings as he sees the same Alex that was present at his parents' home.  Not _Agent Kingston_ , but the Alex who wears a little less weight on her shoulders and gives her smiles a little more easily.  The Alex who very nearly kissed him.

     Matt grins at her and thinks that maybe that gap isn't so wide after all.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!!! You know, the best gifts come in the form of comments..... >.>
> 
> Thanks for reading <333


	5. i had the sun at dawn, but they're gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The frustration bubbling under Matt's skin at the unsolved puzzle suddenly dissipates as he watches Alex stab another piece of chicken, her brow furrowed adorably in irritation. He likes her here, in his flat, wearing sweatpants with her curls piled messily on her head, and eating the food he ordered for himself instead of her own. It's frightfully domestic, the complete opposite of sneaking through national banks, sleeping on trains, and stowing away on yachts owned by scarily powerful crime lords. He'd be lying if he said he didn't rather enjoy the temporary change of pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all had a Happy Holiday! With the last chapter all fluff, we're back at it again with the plot- hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who leaves such nice comments- they mean everything to meeee <3
> 
> Chapter title from This Town by Jinkx Monsoon

 

     It's been nearly two whole weeks and the riddle still lies unsolved.  They sit now on the living room floor of Matt's flat, the coffee table between them and littered with half-eaten cartons of Chinese take-away.  Alex swipes his container of sweet and sour chicken, grumbling to herself about the Assembly as she eats his food without a thought.

     "I just don't understand," Alex starts, mumbling around a mouthful of chicken.  "Who has the damn time to come up with these bloody impossible riddles in the first place?"

     The frustration bubbling under Matt's skin at the unsolved puzzle suddenly dissipates as he watches Alex stab another piece of chicken, her brow furrowed adorably in irritation.  He likes her here, in his flat, wearing sweatpants with her curls piled messily on her head, and eating the food he ordered for himself instead of her own.  It's frightfully domestic, the complete opposite of sneaking through national banks, sleeping on trains, and stowing away on yachts owned by scarily powerful crime lords.  He'd be lying if he said he didn't rather enjoy the temporary change of pace.

     Matt reaches over and takes the carton of chicken from her hand, smiling when she pouts at him.  "Come on, Kingston," he speaks as he stands, smiling softly at her as he offers her his hand.  "Let's take a break.  We're not going to get anywhere with the riddle by staring at it for hours on end."

     Looking dejected, Alex sighs before nodding her head once in agreement.  When Matt pulls her to her feet and leads her to the door, she gives him a puzzled frown and asks, "Where are we going?"

     "The park," Matt answers with a grin, taking one of the coats from his coat rack and placing it on Alex's shoulders before grabbing one for himself.  "We need some fresh air."

     Fortunately, a small park rests just across the street from the block of flats where Matt resides.  It has an open field for recreation, a little playground tucked away in one corner for the children, and a border of trees that are currently bare of any leaves.  In a few months' time, those tress will begin to bud, but right now, with the heavy grey sky and the biting breeze, it feels as if winter is here to stay forever.     They stroll along without a word, the excited voices of small children playing and cars passing on the nearby street filling the silence.  It is a much needed moment away from their mission, even the cold air a nice change from the stuffy indoors.  When Alex slips her arm through his, Matt can't help but look at her in surprise, smiling to himself when he finds her determinedly focusing on the path before them and ignoring her action entirely.  Wisely, he chooses to say nothing, somehow feeling like he's just won a small victory.

     As they near the playground, Matt grins at the children playing there and says, "I think they're playing pirates."  His suspicion confirmed when he hears, ' _Argh!  Walk the plank!_ '  And, ' _Ye will ne'er find me treasure!_ '

     Then, he is suddenly yanked to a stop as Alex stills, seeming completely frozen as she watches the children.

     "Alex?"  Matt asks in confusion, looking between the woman next to him and the children playing a few steps away.

     A frown of concentration appears across her face as she mutters, " _Treasure..._ "  It's an echo of the words of one of the small boys, serving only to puzzle Matt further.

     " _Started by Greatness and owned by the Chest,_ " Alex recites from the top line of the Assembly's latest riddle.  When she looks at him, Matt can immediately tell that something has clicked.

     Alex grips his arm.  "'Chest,'" she repeats, and he can practically see the gears turning in her mind.  A sudden smile breaks across her face.  "Like treasure chest!  It's the Treasury!"

     Matt's eyes widen in comprehension.  "The Assembly's next target is owned by the Treasury?"

     "That has to be it," she confirms, stepping out of his space and taking her warmth with her as she pulls out her communicator.  A second later, she has a number pulled up, and when he tries to ask who she's calling, Alex only waves him off as the person on the other line answers.

     "Agent Darvill!"  Alex greets with a smile.  "I need you to send me a list of all the agencies under the jurisdiction of Her Majesty's Treasury."

XxX

     "I didn't know you had glasses," speaks Alex from across the table.

     They sit on opposite sides of a mahogany desk that is tucked toward the back of the British Library.  Yesterday, after Agent Darvill had gathered and sent the requested information, it didn't take them long to realize that solving the entire riddle was going to take more than just the names of the agencies under the Treasury.  So here they are at the British Library, up with the sun and ready to spend the day digging for information.

     Matt looks up from the volume laid out before him on the agency of  _UK Government Investments_  and replies, "They're just for reading."

     "Oh," is the only response he gets as Alex pulls a rather hefty book from the top of their pile and opens it to a random page, immediately immersing herself in the text as if she wishes she had never brought it up.

     Matt grins as he understands, leaning toward her.  "Why, Kingston?  Like them?"

     A secretive smile crosses her face as she flips the page, looking up at him briefly to answer, "Yes."

     Not expecting an honest answer, and _definitely_  not expecting that honest answer to be an admission, Matt feels a light flush heat his cheeks.  He lets the subject be, grinning smugly to himself as he returns to his reading.  Distantly, he thinks that if he had permission to kiss her, he certainly would take this opportunity to do just that.

     By the end of the day, they have moved to six different tables, have nearly driven the librarians spare requesting volumes on one agency or another, and have gained practically nothing for their efforts.  An half hour before closing sees Matt slumped over a rather large tome dedicated to the Royal Mint, and Alex using her own open book as a pillow as she begins to nod off.  Sleep starts to sound infinitely better than research, and just as Matt is about to give in for the night, his eye catches the end of a sentence:  " _...concrete origins of the Royal Mint are largely unknown, but it can be agreed upon that the significance of British coinage began with Alfred the Great, King of Wessex._ "

_Started by Greatness and owned by the Chest_ , Matt repeats to himself, suddenly sitting straight in his chair and sleep the furthest thought from his mind.  Hurriedly, he flips to the front of the volume and scans the table of contents, hoping to find more on Alfred the Great to confirm his suspicion.  Instead, another link seems to fall directly in place.

_Chapter Nine_ , he reads to himself, _Sir Isaac Newton:  The Physicist, the Mathematician, the Guard_.

     The second line of the riddle rings in his ears:   _Where Isaac guarded is the next set._

     Quickly, Matt flips to chapter nine, his heedless turning of pages enough to rouse Alex from her almost-sleep.  Glancing over at her, he gives an excited grin.  "I think I found it."

     Immediately, Alex is fully awake and crowding Matt's space as he reads the first sentence of the chapter aloud.  "' _Sir Isaac Newton is universally recognized for his scientific achievements that forever changed the understanding of the world; however, what is less known is the thirty years he spent as warden to the Royal Mint._ "

     Matt gives a laugh that is somewhere between excitement and hysteria, looking at Alex to find her already watching him with wide eyes.  "It's the Mint, Alex.  The Assembly's next target is the Royal Mint."

XxX

     It is impossible to break into the Royal Mint.  Well.   _Almost_  impossible.  At least, that is the agreed upon consensus by Matt and Alex, though at this point it would be unwise to underestimate the Assembly's abilities.

     Still, the Mint sits nearly on the Thames, diagonally across from The Tower of London and surrounded by other buildings of high importance.  The Royal Mint is a museum, a coinage factory, and a bank all in one, undoubtedly making it one of the heaviest guarded buildings in the nation.  To try to break in would be more than foolish, it would be madness.

     "But they _are_  mad," argues Matt once Alex makes that exact point.

     "True," Alex concedes with a sigh.  "Still, I think it unlikely that they would choose to break in during the dead of night.  It seems they prefer to use the cover of people, either as a distraction or as a way to hide in plain sight."

     Matt nods, pulling out his communicator and bringing up the Royal Mint's website.  "We should see if they're hosting any events in the near future."  He sits at Alex's kitchen table, and has to force himself to focus on the job at hand as she leans over his shoulder to share the small screen.  It's a difficult task, his mind straying to the warmth she brings and the smell of the shampoo she likes to use, something flowery and inticing enough that he just wants to pull her to him and bury his face in those curls for days.

     With Matt failing to focus, Alex is the one who finds the answer first, giving a few taps to the screen and bringing up a page promoting:   _Commemoration Gala for the 350th Anniversary of the Great Fire of London!_

     "This must be it," speaks Alex, completely unaware that she is reason for distraction as she continues, "It looks like they're minting a special coin for the event."  Her eyes continue to scan the page, the contents eventually prompting a scoff.  "Seven hundred and eighty quid for each coin."

     Matt barks out a disbelieving laugh.  "They're just as mad as the Assembly!"

     The corner of Alex's lips curl upward in amusement.  "Perhaps not _quite_  that mad- but close."

     With the Royal Mint not hosting another semi-large event for another six months, Agents Smith and Kingston set themselves to prepare for the Commemoration Gala, though they place extra surveillance in and around the building on the chance that the Assembly makes their move beforehand.  The event is three weeks away, giving them plenty time to prepare, a luxury they weren't afforded with the Bank or Scotland.

     It is learned that admission to the Gala is one insanely priced coin per guest, a price Sir is less than thrilled about but allows nonetheless.  After _Mr. and Mrs. Robinson_  are confirmed for the guest list, Matt and Alex spend the next three weeks learning blueprints of the building, familiarizing themselves with the security measures placed throughout, and attempting to commit the names and faces of every employee and guest meant to be present at the Gala to memory.  And all the while, Matt finds himself faced with moments that cause him to become more and more enamored with the woman who has somehow begun to unwittingly dig her way into a permanent spot within his heart.

     It's the small things, things he might find insignificant if it were anyone else.  Like how their second day into going over the blueprints, she cited his penchant for snoring on her sofa and, with an air of indifference, had proposed that he make himself at home in that exact spot until the Gala was behind them.  When he agreed, the answering smile that crossed her face was one for which he would have gladly sold his soul.  Luckily, she gives them to him freely.

     Then there is how they get into the habit of cleaning up the kitchen together after dinner, him elbow deep in dirty dish water and her humming terribly as she dries the plates after him.  Once, he had grabbed her by the hand during her off-key rendition of some tune he couldn't name, and twirled her just once under his arm before resuming his dish duties.  Her laugh had given his heart wings.

     Or how grumpy she is in the morning upon waking, her gaze a permanent glare until at least half an hour after breakfast.  There was once when she dumped her bowl of cereal over his head when he greeted her as his 'morning beastie.'  The look on his face was one of pure shock, and apparently amusing enough to send Alex into a fit of laughter- something that only escalated as he chased her around the kitchen to get his revenge.  Matt has started to forget what eating breakfast alone is like, as opposed to sharing whatever is on his plate with his lovable grump.  He isn't keen on having to eventually remember. 

     And now, the evening of the Gala, as Alex exits her room dressed and nearly ready to leave, Matt stares at her and recognizes that he's only lying when he tries to tell himself that he's not falling in love.

     The realization hits him square in the chest, and he feels frozen as he takes in the sight of her, dressed in a black evening gown and a cross expression on her face as she tries and fails to latch the dress at the back of her neck.

     "Help me," Alex huffs, turning around and holding the two ends of the strap out to him.  Her back is bare, left uncovered by the cut of the dress, and he has to remind himself that the smooth skin on display is strictly off-limits.  Otherwise, he would let the gown fall crumpled to the floor, run his hands over every inch of her, and finally take her to bed.  The Assembly could take whatever they wanted from the Mint and he wouldn't care.

     Instead, Matt clumsily takes the two ends of the strap- one he finds to be a button, and the other a loop- and fastens the two together.  Mumbling out her thanks, Alex turns back to face him, smoothing out the material of her gown and frowning critically down at herself.

     Clearly his throat, Matt whispers, "You look gorgeous, Alex."  

     Alex grins at him then, and he doesn't miss the barely-there flush that steals briefly across her cheeks, his heart giving an embarrassing flutter in response.  Stepping into his space, Alex straightens his tie, her smile soft now as she says, "You look exceptionally pretty yourself, darling."

     Matt beams and offers her his arm, pushing all wants and wishes aside to focus on their mission.  "Ready to go kick some Assembly arse, Mrs. Robinson?"

     Alex rolls her eyes, though her smile remains on her face as she slips her arms through his.  "Ready."

XxX

     "They said there would be treasures here, but I had no idea they were talking about the men."

     Matt frowns and turns toward the voice directed at him, careful not to spill the water from the two glasses in his hands.  A leggy brunette leans against a nearby pillar, smirk in place and predatory glint in her eyes.

     Okay.   _Not_  what he wanted from the drink table.

     The Gala is in full swing, people dancing, eating, and chatting merrily, a full hour of drinking now under their belts.  Well, everyone save Matt and Alex, both needing their full wits about them. 

     The brunette gives a laugh.  "Okay, that was a pretty bad line, but how else was I supposed to get your attention?"  She swipes one of the glasses from his hand, Matt making a noise of protest as she continues, "For the record, I'm more of a champagne kind of gal, but this will do for now."

     "Actually-" Matt starts, the rest of his words dying in his throat from panic as the woman steps into his space, way too close for comfort.

     Her hand wraps around his tie, and Matt flounders uselessly as she pulls him toward her and orders, "Dance with me."

     "Sorry-" comes a voice, and Matt feels relief wash over him as Alex inserts herself between him and the brunette- "but he's _taken_."

     The woman frowns, looking unimpressed.  "And who are you?"

     Alex huffs out a laugh, taking a brief moment to straighten Matt's tie, as if she isn't keen on the idea of another woman having her hands on him. 

     "I'm his _wife_ ," Alex answers once she returns her attention to the brunette, the smile on Alex's face nothing but teeth.

     Matt can hear the possession in Alex's voice, can see it in her eyes- and honestly, he shouldn't like it as much as he does.  He misses whatever words are exchanged next, grinning at her in a manner that is entirely too besotted, he's sure. 

     Once the other woman has moved on, undoubtedly to find some other target, Alex huffs and turns to him, hands on her hips.  Any words she has for him die in her throat the moment she sees his grin. 

     Narrowing her eyes, she asks, "What?"

     Matt gives a delighted giggle, "You were _jealous_."

     Alex rolls her eyes.  "No.  I was just trying to keep you from getting distracted."

     Matt scoffs, able to spot the lie.  "Come on, Robinson, I wasn't going to dance with her."  He grins and bops Alex lightly on the nose, delighting in the start of a smile that twitches at her lips.  "I was just waiting for my wife to come rescue me."

     "Just like a man- always having to be rescued,"  Alex sighs, a smile in her eyes as she plays along.

     Matt laughs, reaching for her hand and about to propose a dance when suddenly the harsh, blaring sound of the fire alarm pierces the air.  From one second to the next, the emergency water sprinklers go off, drenching absolutely everything.  The lights power down to be replaced by an eerie green glow from the security lights stationed throughout the building.

     Mass panic spreads like wild fire, people pushing and shoving to get toward the exits as the security guards attempt to demand peace.  Matt and Alex exchange a somber look, both knowing that the real event of the evening is about to begin.

     Alex takes her communicator from the small clutch she's had in hand all night, tapping a few times before displaying heat sensory readings of the building.  "There's no actual fire," Alex confirms as she swipes a wet curl that has slipped from her updo out of her face.

     "Just a distraction, then.  You take the security room and I take the vault?"  Matt asks, wanting to reaffirm the plan they've constructed over the last two weeks.

     Alex nods, tapping her earpiece on so she can communicate with him once they part ways.  Just as she's about to step into action, Matt grabs her arm, forcing her to look at him.  "Be safe."

     Alex grins.  "I'm not the one who nearly drowned last time, Mr. Robinson."  And with that, she's off through the crowd and leaving Matt on his own.

     Huffing out a laugh, Matt taps his earpiece and says, " _Rude_."

     "Doesn't make it any less true, darling," comes Alex's voice in his ear, her tone full of amusement.

     He leaves it at that, a grin pushing at his face as he weaves his way through the crowd of panicking guests.  The water sprinklers finally stop their relentless downpour, allowing a brief reprieve.  The floors are slick, and the green glow of the security lights offer little in the way of guiding light.  Matt finds himself grateful for the days of studying blueprints as he winds through one corridor after another toward the vault.

     "I haven't encountered a single person," Alex speaks, and Matt can hear faint beeping as she enters a code through a keypad to gain access to the security room, determining that the lights must be the only source of power to have gone down.  "The fire alarm they set off seems to have really done its job."

     After a few seconds of silence interspersed with the clicking of Alex typing on a keyboard, her voice rings into his ear again.  "Okay I'm in."  A pause.  "It looks like there are multiple cameras for every room- more than what I was hoping for, honestly."

     "Can you see me?"  Asks Matt in a whisper as he keys in the code to the mint factory.

     "Yes."

     Looking up at the camera resting in the corner by the edge of the door, Matt makes a kissy face and is immediately rewarded with a tinkling laugh and a mumbled, "Ridiculous man."

     Just as he goes to hit _enter_ and unlock the door, Alex gasps and her voice bursts across the line, "Matt, wait!"  He halts, his finger hovering over the button.  "There's someone inside."

     "Good," Matt concludes.  "Can't catch them if we can't find them.  Where is he?"

     "The opposite side of the room from the vault, standing by the coin press in the back.  It's so dark in there- I'll have to keep tabs on him through the heat sensors."

     "You said on the _opposite_  side from the vault?"  Matt questions with a confused frown.

     "Yes.  He's just...standing there.  Completely immobile."

     "He's waiting for me," Matt surmises, breathing deeply through his nose and trying to calm the sudden racing of his heart.  Reaching for his holster, Matt pulls out his gun, gripping the handle tightly in an attempt to find some reassurance.

     Glancing down the corridor behind him, he asks, "So what should I do?  Confront him directly?"

     "No," Alex answers.  "He would be able to see you way before you would see him, giving him the advantage.  Regardless, he's going to know you're in there the moment you go through the door.  If you keep to the edges of the room, he won't be able to spot you easily."

     Matt nods.  "I'll just skirt the walls, see what he does."

     "Okay," Alex agrees on a shaky breath, Matt able to hear all her worries in that one word. 

     Keying in the number again, Matt doesn't berate her for worrying, knowing that her concern for his safety isn't because she doesn't have faith in his abilities, but because she cares.  About him.  The thought warms his heart and gives him the resolve he needs to hit _enter_  on the keypad and open the door to the factory.

     As the door click shuts behind him, Matt presses his back to the wall and freezes just a few feet from where he entered.  His breathing stops as he listens for any sign of movement and stares into the darkness.  With only the security lights to see by, even the machinery of the mint is difficult to make out, yet alone a person not wanting to be seen.

     The wall adjacently left to the entrance door is made of steel bars, behind it resting a vault that towers to the ceiling.  The vault is bathed in green by the nearby security light, and when Matt glances over, he finds the door of steel bars in front of it to be thrown wide open.

     "Those should not be open," whispers Alex in his ear, voicing his concern.

     Swallowing, Matt refocuses his attention across the room as he slowly moves along the wall, his eyes straining to see the Assembly member hidden by the darkness.

     "He moved," whispers Alex.  "He's heading toward the door.  Be prepared, Agent Smith."  Her voice is calm, almost detached as she speaks to him, Matt trying to gather that same composure as he clicks the safety off his gun and aims toward the door.

     Then, the door opens and a figure slips through and out into the corridor before Matt can react.  "Shit," Matt swears, lowering his gun and taking a step toward the door.

     "Wait," speaks Alex.  "Check the vault, then follow him.  I'll keep tabs on him through the cameras."

     Quickly, Matt rushes through the open bars to the vault, turning the massive dial to the combination that he and Alex learned days ago.  It's then, when the lock of the vault is released and the heavy door swings outward, that everything takes a turn for the worse.

     From outside the factory, a gunshot echoes through the corridor, startling Matt into turning his back to the vault and re-aiming his gun at the door, though it remains closed.  In the same moment, an alarm louder than before shrieks through the building, causing him to cringe.  And then, a second later, a metal plate slides from above the entrance door to the ground, effectively locking Matt inside.

     "Alex what's happening?!"  Matt shouts over the blaring of the alarm.

     "She shot the camera outside the door," Alex answers in his ear, sounding distracted.  "The damage to it set off an alarm and prompted an automated lockdown system.  I'm trying to get the plates to come back up."

     "She?"  Matt repeats, turning back to the vault as the alarm ceases, knowing Alex must have shut it off.

     "Yes, Matthew, _she_.  It was your little girlfriend from earlier."

     Matt huffs at the term _girlfriend_.  "I told you I wasn't interested!"  No wonder she was trying to get so close to him before- the Assembly must be itching to slit his throat by now.

     Eyes searching the inside of the vault, Matt frowns.  "The vault is full, Alex.  If they took anything, it wouldn't be enough to make a differ-"

     "Matt, stop breathing," Alex interrupts, speaking over him.

     He blinks, confused.  "What?"

     " _Stop.  Breathing._ "  Her voice carries an edge of panic as she elaborates, "I'm getting readings of carbon monoxide.  I think it's being filtered into the ventilation system."

     Immediately, he does as he is told and stops breathing, his heart pounding in his ears as Alex instructs, "The cuff links I gave you are air filters.  Use them like nose plugs and make sure to only breathe through your nose- if you must talk, do so on an exhale.  Give me a thumbs-up once you have them in."

     Working quickly, Matt fumbles with the cuff links until they are off his shirt and in his nose, trying not to think about how bizarre it is, and focusing instead on how the small gadgets are saving his life.  Taking a deep breath through his nose, Matt gives a thumbs up to the camera above the vault, knowing Alex must be watching.

     "Good," she answers.  "Now close the vault, I almost have the plates up."

     "Plural?"  Matt asks on an exhale, knowing Alex will catch onto his meaning.

     "Yes, _plates_ \- plural.  There are four between me and you.  I can pull up three, but there is one down outside of the security room door that can only be lifted by keying in a code from the pad outside.  You're going to have to do that to get me out of here, I'm afraid."

     "Code?"

     "I don't know it," admits Alex, Matt's stomach dropping as he closes the vault door and spins the dial.  As he makes his way over to the metal plate covering his exit, something else niggles at his mind, prompting the last two lines of the latest riddle to come to the forefront of his thoughts:

_To stay away would be in your best interest,_

_Two deaths at our hands would make not a difference_.

     Suddenly, the untouched vault makes sense.  The Assembly was never after the wealth stored within the Royal Mint, this was all just a trap for him and Alex. 

     Matt freezes.

     Him _and_  Alex.

     "Safe?"  He demands, his heart pounding against his rib cage as he contemplates for the first time that the carbon monoxide may be circulating throughout the entire building, not just the factory.

     When she fails to answer immediately, Matt has his answer.

     "The gas is here as well," Alex finally responds.  "But don't worry, darling," she continues, the metal plate suddenly rising back into the ceiling, "I'm sure you won't take too long."

     Matt throws open the door without hesitation, sprinting through the building to the security room.  If he thought he was grateful for the blueprint study sessions before, that was nothing compared to now.  Before, his knowledge of the layout of the building was crucial to finally catching the Assembly, but now- _now_ \- it is Alex on the line and nothing is more important to him than her.

     His boots splash in the puddles that the sprinklers left behind, and the rubber squeaks loudly against the tile of the floor.  His surroundings are a blur as he rushes through corridors and leaps stairs two at a time.  When he reaches the other end of the building, relief floods him as he comes to a stop in front of the metal plate blocking his access to the security room- to Alex.  Panting through his nose from the run, Matt finds his relief to be replaced with more distress as he stares numbly at the keypad.  He and Alex had acquired all of the security codes from Agent Darvill, but remembering all of them had proven impossible.

     "Alex?"  He asks, his heart skipping as he waits for a response.

     Nothing.

     In a fit of rage and fear, Matt pounds the plate with his fists and gives it a kick for good measure, though he gains nothing from his actions but sore knuckles and lost time.  Inhaling deeply through his nose to steady himself, Matt forces himself to think.

     The codes all spell something in T9.  All of them relate to the Mint.  Matt closes his eyes.  Think.   _Think_.

     For the second time that evening, the riddle comes to mind:   _Where Isaac guarded is the next set_.

     Guarded.  Security.

     Heart racing, Matt shakily punches the numbers that spell  _I S A A C_.

     The keypad beeps in a low tone and flashes red.

     He tries again- _S I R  I S A A C_.

     Red.

_N E W T O N_.

     The keypad chimes and turns green, the metal plate lifting from the door.  Matt gives a laugh that borders on sounding mad, hardly able to believe that it worked as he rushes into the security room.

     What he finds is Alex unconscious on the floor, the rolling chair she must have been sitting in now a few feet away.  An array of computers fill the space, and the mouse to the computer she was sat in front of dangles from the desk.  All of the screens are black except one, which reads, ' _Downloading:  78%._ '

     Quickly, he deduces that Alex must have wiped all other computers of their security footage and was downloading it to the flashdrive she has stuck in the side of the one still on.  Yanking the flashdrive out of the computer and stuffing it in his pocket, he decides that seventy-eight percent will have to do- he can't waste anymore time.  Likewise, he wipes the remaining computer of its information the old-fashioned way, lifting it from the desk and smashing it on the ground a safe distance from Alex.

     Heedless of anything else, Matt kneels by Alex and presses his fingers to her throat.  Her heartbeat is faint, but still there.  A lump forming in his throat, Matt pushes aside his panic and lifts her in his arms.  His vision blurs, the world seems to tilt, and he knows the gas must be getting to him.  Taking a moment, he shuts his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose.  All he has to do is make it outside. 

     Feeling re-grounded, Matt opens his eyes, steps out of the security room, and rushes down the stairs.  Despite the spots in his vision, his feet carry him faster than ever before.  His body feels as if it's on auto-pilot, rushing through the building with sheer panic powering his legs.

    When he rounds the corner just before the exit doors, he nearly barrels right into the fire brigade as they do a search in response to the first alarm.  Pressing his back to the wall, Matt holds Alex close to him and swears under his breath.  To explain and verify himself as an MI6 agent would take the time and energy he definitely does not have- he needs to get Alex medical attention immediately.

     One of the men runs past him, and either Matt is hidden well enough by shadow to go unnoticed, or the man is too focused on finding the non-existent fire.  Once the man is out of sight, Matt continues around the corner and finally escapes the building and into fresh air.

     Another fire truck screams up to the curb, and Matt hurries around the building and out of sight.  When he is safe enough away to remain unseen, his knees collapse to the ground.  He holds Alex to his chest, brushing the still-wet curls from her face as he whispers, "Come on, sweetheart."

     She doesn't stir.  Fear crawls up Matt's throat and tears sting behind his eyes as he pulls out his communicator with a shaking hand.  He refuses to entertain the idea of losing her.  And it's that sheer determination that convinces himself everything will be just fine as he dials Sir's number and listens as the phone gives its first ring.

XxX

     "I can't believe how reckless the two of you were tonight," snaps Sir as he paces the space directly in front of Matt.

     Just as with Scotland, Matt and Alex are being treated privately, this time under the roof of Matt's flat.  The physician left some time ago with a promise to be back in the morning to check on them both.  Alex lies in his bed, an oxygen mask placed over her face and seeming perfectly fine except for that she has yet to waken.

     "If I recall," Sir continues his tirade, his face reddening with every word, "Agent Kingston informed me that you had _three weeks_  to prepare for this mission.  And what happened?  You destroyed the Royal Mint's security equipment, almost got caught by the fire brigade- which would have been a sodding nightmare and potentially comprising to your identity- and you both nearly died of toxic gas intake!  And let's not forget that despite all of this, your objective still remains uncompleted!"

     Lifting his oxygen mask that the doctor has him wearing despite his protests, Matt attempts to argue, "Sir, with all due respect, we were bloody close.  If-"

     " _Close isn't good enough!_ " Roars Sir over the rest of what Matt has to say, a thunderous expression on his face.

     Matt flinches and bites back the argument that is trying to force its way out.

     Sir gives a weary sigh and scrubs a hand over his face, his anger dissipating.  "I'm transferring Agent Kingston to a different mission as soon as she has recovered."

     Matt jumps to his feet.  " _What?_ "

     Sir holds up a hand, leveling Matt with a glare and effectively cutting off his argument before he even begins.  "Call me once she's on her feet."

     With that, Sir grabs his jacket and exits the flat, leaving Matt to stew in anger.

XxX

     He is on borrowed time.

     Alex woke from her poison-induced sleep the morning after the Mint, immediately ripping off the oxygen mask and cursing once she realized what had happened.  Hearing her, Matt had rushed into the room just as she tried stand, wobbling a bit on her feet.

     " _No no no,_ " Matt had chided, shooing her back into bed even as she protested.

     Pulling the covers back over herself, she had sighed in defeat before giving him a smirk that he knew meant trouble.  " _Not exactly how I imagined ending up in your bed_."

     Matt had flushed up to his ears, something she took great delight in.  His heart had lifted at her shameless flirting, knowing that for all his worrying, she was going to be just fine.

     And now, two days later, she is up and preparing dinner in his kitchen, back to her terrible humming like she hadn't just had a near-death experience.

     "Pretty sure I'm the one supposed to be cooking, Kingston," Matt says as he leans over her shoulder to get a look at what she's preparing.

     "Too late, darling," Alex counters with a smile as she pushes past him to slide the completed dish into the oven.

     If the smile he offers in return feels a bit forced, it's only because he knows these small moments could be snatched away at any time.  He has yet to contact Sir, and he doesn't plan to make that phone call anytime in the near future.  If Sir wants to take Alex away from him, Matt figures the man can make the initiative to call her himself.  And maybe he's being petty, but Matt refuses to have any part in it.

     "Okay," Alex speaks, pulling him from his thoughts.  Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms at him. "You've been acting strange."

     "I haven't," Matt immediately denies, causing Alex to narrows her eyes.

     He sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.  "I've just been worried about you."  Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

     Her arms drop, and she reaches out to grab the hem of his t-shirt, pulling him to her and forcing him to look at her.  She smiles then, so radiant he almost stops breathing.  "I'm _fine_ , darling,"  Alex insists.  "Stop worrying."

     Matt nods in acquiescence, reaching up to tuck one of her curls behind her ear.  She leans into his touch, welcoming it, and Matt's heart gives a flutter as he thinks that now would be as good a time as any to kiss her.  And why not?  Nothing's stopping him, Matt convinces himself, his other hand coming up to rest at her waist and only encouraged as Alex steps closer to him, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt at his chest.

     And then, her communicator begins to ring.

     Alex closes her eyes, looking just about as disappointed as he feels.  Slipping from between Matt and the counter, she murmurs, "Of bloody course," as she picks up her communicator from the kitchen table.

     "Hello? ... Oh, Sir, I wasn't expecting a call from you," she greets the man on the other line, Matt's heart sinking.  Gripping the edge of the counter, he closes his eyes and listens to Alex's end of the conversation.

     "Oh, no, he didn't tell me.  What did you need? ... What? ... Oh."  Silence, then in a quiet voice, "When?...  _Now_?"  Another long pause.  "I understand, I'll see you then."

     After Alex hangs up, silence hangs heavy in the kitchen until she finally prompts, "Matt?"

     Opening his eyes, he reluctantly turns to meet her gaze as she asks, "Did you know?"

     "...Yes," he answers honestly.

     "You should have told me." 

     She looks heartbroken, and it's all Matt can manage to acknowledge, "I know."

     The following silence is broken by the timer that had been set on the oven.  He turns to give it his attention, feeling grateful to get from under her heavy gaze.  There is the sound of Alex's retreating footsteps as she goes to pack, and suddenly he feels a bit numb.  Using oven mitts, Matt pulls the dish from the oven and plops it onto the stove.  It's far from done, but he finds he doesn't care, an ache forming in his chest as he realizes that tonight he will be eating by himself.

     When Alex returns, messenger bag thrown over her shoulder and shoes on her feet, all they can do is stare at each another.  It seems there are too many unsaid things between them to speak them now.

     When Sir first assigned Alex as his handler, he would have never guessed that when the time came, it would hurt to see her go.  But now, as she prepares to walk out of his door, it's all Matt can do to stop himself from begging her not to leave.  At the end of the day, this is their job, this is what they signed up for- and who knows when he will run into her again.

     Alex crosses the space of the kitchen to stand before him, one hand cupping the side of his face as she leans in to press a kiss to his opposite cheek.  Matt closes his eyes, savoring the feel of her lips on his skin.

     "See you around, Agent Smith," Alex speaks as she steps out of his space, her smile broken.

     Matt nods, his throat too tight to get out any words.  And what would he say to her anyway?   _Don't go_? _Stay_? _I love you_?Any of those would only make the goodbye more difficult.

     So he says nothing, and then, from one moment to the next she is gone, leaving him to his empty flat and broken heart.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> thanks for reading~~~


	6. we should just kiss like real people do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no mission and no danger, Matt thought things would be different. Much to his relief, he finds that the foundation of their relationship remains the same. Light bantering, good-natured bickering, and the inevitable wicked smirk from Alex that leaves him flushing up to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought we should end this year/begin the new year on a good note!!! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, thank you, THANK YOU to everyone who leaves comments- you have no idea how they brighten my day!!! <3
> 
> Chapter title from Like Real People Do by Hozier

 

 

     "Are you still upset?"

     Alex glances up from her work to find Sir standing in the doorway to her office.  Normally, she prefers to stay as far from Headquarters as possible, finding the atmosphere too stifling for her liking, but here she is.  Her empty flat has proven to feel far less welcoming as of late.

     Pursing her lips, Alex returns her attention to the papers strewn before her.  "Of course I'm still upset."

     Sir gives a sigh and takes a seat in front of her desk.  "It was for your own good, you know."

     Alex snorts in disbelief at the words leaving his mouth and tightens her grip on her pen to keep from launching it as his enormous head.  "I don't think those are the kind of decisions you get to make, Sir."  If her words carry a bit of a bite, she honestly couldn't care less.

     "Fine.  It was best for the mission, then."

     "You can't possibly be serious," Alex scoffs, finally meeting his gaze.

     Sir frowns, and Alex distantly thinks that perhaps she should show more deference to her superior.  Oh well.

     "I am perfectly serious, Alexandra."  Oh, he really is itching to get whacked with her pen.  "The two of you had been working on that mission for _months_  and what did you have to show for it?  A few near-death experiences?"

     "Last time I checked, near-death experiences were in our job description," Alex snaps.  "And you know just as well as I do that missions can take _years_ , yet alone months."

     Sir leans forward in his seat, eyes narrowing in a way that might would intimidate anyone else.  "This mission is on a crunch for time, Alex.  I don't have time for my agents to be fucking each other when the country is being robbed blind."

     Rage boiling under her skin, Alex leans forward and hisses, " _We weren't sleeping together_."

     Settling back in his chair, Sir gives a derisive laugh.  "Could have fooled me.  The boy looks at you like you hung the bloody moon."

     Her anger dissipates at the thought of Matt's smile and warm gaze, the way he would light up when she called him _darling_ , and how eagerly he welcomed the simplest of touches.  She misses him. 

     Clearing her throat, Alex returns her attention to the papers on her desk.  "Even if that were true, there was nothing going on between us."

     "Regardless, it's been nearly two weeks since I pulled you from the Assembly mission."  Sir stands, "I need you to get past it and devote all of your energy to your current task instead of being cross with me."

     Feeling vaguely like a reprimanded child, Alex grits her teeth and nods.  Arguing obviously isn't going to get her any closer to Matt.

XxX

     "We're not going to get anywhere with this riddle as long as you're actively working against me," admonishes Matt's new handler.  Agent Elaine Price is young, with short, dark hair, and features that are vaguely familiar, though he finds he doesn't care enough to try to figure out the match.

     "I'm not working against you," Matt responds tiredly as he scrubs his hand over his face.

     "Well you're certainly not helping me, either, Agent Smith."

     Glancing up at her tone, Matt finds Agent Price giving him a cross frown and feels a twinge of regret.  He knows he hasn't exactly been on his best behavior over the past two weeks, snapping at most people he comes in contact with and failing to give his all to the assigned mission.  He's wallowing, plain and simple, and nothing he does seems capable of snapping him out of it.

     "I know, I'm sorry," Matt admits, straightening in his chair and bringing up the latest riddle on his communicator.  Not that it's a riddle at all.  All it says is:

**_The game is over._ **

     A little unsettling, but simple at least.

     "I honestly have no idea where to go from here," Matt speaks dejectedly, unsure if he is truly out of ideas or if he just lacks the want to put in the work.  The mission is of the uppermost importance, he knows, but he is struggling to find the energy to focus when all he can think about are curls and that soft smile he worked so hard to earn.

     "Well how about we start with trying to trace the IP address of the device that posted the Assembly's latest video?"

     Matt sighs.  "Agent Kingston and I tried that months ago."

     "Well you never know," Agent Price encourages and stands from her chair.  "So let's go."

     Once at the MI6 headquarters they set up base in one of the many computer labs; it's cold and far from comfortable, but it will get the job done.  Idly, Matt wonders if Alex is anywhere in the building, but immediately banishes the thought.  She prefers libraries and isolated cafes to the suffocating nature of Headquarters.

     The rest of the evening is spent by Matt and Agent Price running the source of the riddle through various different databases in an attempt to track its origins.  It's a slow process, and with nothing to do but wait, Matt inevitably begins to doze. 

     Around midnight, Agent Price shoos Matt home to get some rest, deciding that they'll pick up with their search the next morning.  Just as he is falling into bed, his communicator gives a ding from his nightstand.  Groaning, Matt briefly contemplates ignoring it entirely before giving in and blindly reaching for it.

     The light of the display causes him to wince, and Matt fumbles with the brightness before opening the message.

_Dinner?  xx_

     His heart nearly slams out of his chest.  His communicator had automatically been erased of Agent Kingston's contact information the moment she was transferred to a different mission, but he knows that the message is from her.

_Only if it's a date, Kingston (;_

_I wasn't planning on taking any other answer._

     Matt grins.   _I'll make the plans (: (:_

_I look forward to it._

_I miss you ):_

_I miss you, too, darling.  xx_

     For the first time in two weeks Matt goes to bed with a full heart, the Assembly the furthest thing from his mind.

XxX

     Bouncing his leg anxiously, Matt checks his watch for the fifth time in the past two minutes and throws another glance at the door.  It's fine.  She's not late. 

_Yet_.

     Matt sits in the same tiny cafe as he did on the night of the Bank, though this time he's found a bigger table and a much more comfortable chair.  But as the clock ticks nearer to the time for their date, he finds that his anxiety level remains the same.  He doesn't particularly fancy being stood up again.

     "Hello, darling."

     Snapped from his pre-moping phase by that voice, Matt looks up just in time to see Alex plop into the seat across from him.  "Alex," he breathes in greeting, a face-splitting smile working its way up his cheeks.  Just the mere sight of her is enough to lift his heart-  and he hadn't realized just how far it had fallen until now.

     "So why here?"  She asks, tossing her curls over her shoulder and giving a quick glance around the restaurant.

     Matt pouts.  "This is where we were supposed to have our first date to begin with, but _somebody_  never showed up."

     "That was never meant to be a date!"  Alex insists, giving him a glare that he sees right through.  Beneath it is a warm fondness and something that he doesn't exactly want to name for fear of losing it.  Something that makes him want to shove the table aside and pull her into a long-awaited kiss, something that causes him to wish that they could forgo the evening's plans entirely, and instead take her home where he could whisper his love for her into her bare skin.  Something that tells him she may not even hesitate to say it back.

     "This is, though?"  What was meant to be a statement comes out as a hopeful question, almost as if Matt hardly dares to believe the reality of it.

     Alex smiles at him, a soft smile that causes him to feel like a besotted fool, his heart giving a flutter as she confirms, "This is."

     With no mission and no danger, Matt thought things would be different.  Much to his relief, he finds that the foundation of their relationship remains the same.  Light bantering, good-natured bickering, and the inevitable wicked smirk from Alex that leaves him flushing up to his ears. 

     What does change is now, even red-faced, he returns her shameless flirting in a way he's never done before.  This time there is _intent_.  Anticipation hangs between them and is charged with every word, every heated glance, every brush of his fingers against her own until Matt thinks he can nearly feel the sparks on his skin.

     To distract his thoughts from wandering where they most want to go, Matt pushes at the food on his plate with a fork and finds himself saying, "So you made quite the impression on my family."

     Alex arches a brow.  "Oh?"

     Matt gives a put-upon sigh.  "They sodding adore you, Kingston- I'm afraid there's no escaping them.  Me mum has already put you down for next Christmas."

     Alex snorts in disbelief, prompting Matt to exclaim, "It's true!  I believe Laura's exact words were 'if you fuck this up, Mum is going to have your head.'"

     A smile twitches at her lips.  "Best not fuck this up then, darling."

     Reaching across the table, Matt laces his fingers with hers.  "I don't plan on it, Kingston."

     A light flush steals across Alex's cheeks at the open act of affection, and to his relief she doesn't pull away.  Then, as always it seems, the moment is snatched away by an interruption.

     "Matt," greets Agent Price as she approaches the table with a smile.  "Fancy seeing you here."

     "Elaine," Matt says in surprise.  "What are you doing here?"

     "Getting dinner," returns the woman with an amused smile, as if the answer was obvious.  "You?"

     "Date," Matt answers, gesturing toward Alex and refusing to elaborate.  He hasn't discussed his involvement with Agent Kingston with anyone, including his current handler, and he would honestly prefer to keep it that way.

     "Of course," Elaine says with a warm smile and a nod to Alex before her gaze slides back to Matt.  Her eyes narrow as she chides, "Don't forget about tomorrow."

     When Matt gives a mock salute, Agent Price only gives a small laugh and a shake of her head before waving to Alex and making her exit.

     "Agent Price, I'm guessing?"  Asks Alex once the other woman is out of earshot.

     "Yeah- not sure she knows who you are, though.  Figured it was better that way."

     Alex nods in agreement.  "I think I must have seen her around Headquarters, though.  She looks familiar."

     Frowning in contemplation and glancing at the door as Agent Price leaves the cafe, Matt muses, "I thought the same when I first met her, but apparently she's new."

     With a shrug, Alex twirls more pasta around her fork and asks, "So what's happening tomorrow?"

     Eyes lighting up, Matt leans forward and whispers, "We tracked down the location that's been sending out the riddles."

     Alex raises her brows in surprise.  "Really?  And you're _sure_?"

     Sitting back, Matt gives a shrug.  "Tomorrow I'm just going to scout it out.  See what the building looks like, what it's for, who owns it- things like that.  There's no guarantee the Assembly uses it at all, it could be a decoy or something."

     "And Agent Price?  Is she going with you?"

     He shakes he head.  "She's going to direct me from Headquarters."

     Alex's lips press together in disapproval. "You better be careful."

     Matt grins.  "Worried about me, Kingston?"

     Expecting some sort of sassy reply, he is surprised when she softens and answers, "Always, darling."

     A smile curls at his lips at her concern.  "No need, Kingston, I know what I'm doing."

     Alex scoffs.  "Just like you knew what you were doing when you got knocked out and pushed into the Loch Ness?"

     "Kingston!  That is unfair and you know it!  This is _different_."

     Alex laughs, obviously pleased with herself, and Matt is helpless to do anything but smile along with her.

XxX

     Night has settled over the city by the time Matt and Alex leave the small restaurant, street lamps illuminating the walkways, and the crowds of people in less of a hurry than during the day.  The chill in the air borders on uncomfortable, but any complaints Matt has quickly die the moment Alex presses into his side and slips her arm through his.  Her warmth is better than any coat could ever hope to be.

     "Where to now?"

     Matt tsks.  "Telling you would ruin all the fun."

     Alex raises her brow.  "A secret, then?  Why?  Is it somewhere naughty?"  She gasps, as if having figured it out.  "A porn shop?"

     "Kingston!"

     "No?  A dominatrix lair, maybe?"  She presses closer into his side, looking up at him through her lashes and a teasing smirk gracing her lips.  "Do you want me to tie you up, darling?"

     Matt's face feels redder than it's ever been as he tries not to think of Alex dressed in tight leather, riding crop in hand, and his wrists bound as he receives the most delicious torture.  But of course, that is the exact image his brain produces, and if the knowing sparkle in Alex's eyes is anything to go by, she knows exactly what kind of thoughts she's put in his head.

     "Minx," he growls, pressing a kiss into her curls.

     The grin that pushes at her cheeks is a smug one, prompting Matt to muse aloud, "No dominatrix lair tonight- my plans involve a more private setting."  He sweeps a curl behind her ear, his gaze dark and a smile twitching at the corner of his lips as she watches him raptly.  Matt turns to face her fully, his hands moving to rest at her waist as he continues in a low voice, "Something like pulling you into my bed, finally getting to run my hands over your bare skin, and worshiping every inch of you until the sun rises."

     It's his turn to feel smug as desire eclipses her gaze and her cheeks color with a light flush.  Alex swallows heavily, her fingers curling into the material of his jacket.  At her silence, Matt asks, "How does that sound, sweetheart?"

     His answer is in the barely perceptible shiver her body gives before she steps out of his space.  Her cheeks still pink, Alex clears her throat and throws him a shaky smile.  "It sounds like you better take me home soon, Agent Smith."

     Lacing his fingers with hers, Matt grins and continues to walk with her.  "Soon," he promises, "but not quite yet."

     When they arrive at their destination, Alex frowns in confusion at the ornate building towering before them. "St. Paul's Cathedral?"  She raises a brow at him.  "Taking me to church?"

     Matt snorts.  "Not for a service.  Have you ever been inside?"

     Alex shakes her head and Matt grins, "Good."

     Tightening his grip on her hand, Matt leads her up the stone steps and into the cathedral.  The building provides a warmth from the chill outside, the lights giving a welcoming glow as they step fully within the church's doors.  Alex looks at their surroundings with wide eyes, taking in the large domed ceiling, the carvings etched into the pillars, and the priceless works of art that grace the walls.

     "Come on," speaks Matt, his hand still holding hers as he pulls her toward the stairs.

     After the first few steps, Alex looks up and takes in just how high the building stretches, hesitantly asking, "Are we going to the top?"

     He grins at her reluctance and shakes his head, ending the conversation until they finish climbing.  Almost three-hundred steps later and they reach a level deemed ' _The Whispering Gallery_.'  Much to his delight, this particular floor seems to be empty at the moment, tourists and random passersby having most likely retired for the evening.

     The level is perfectly circular, complete with a hole in the center for the guests on this floor to gaze down, and allowing those at the bottom to get a full view upward.  Alex makes her way to the railing and smiles as she looks below.  Then, looking upward, she breathes out " _wow_ " at the levels still to go.

     Looking over her shoulder at him, Alex admits.  "You were right, this _is_  something to see."

     "I'm glad you think so, but that isn't why I brought you here."  Matt takes her hand and pulls her away from the railing, positioning her next to the wall.  "Stay here," he orders, enjoying the quizzical look on her face as he moves away from her.

     Once he's on the opposite side of the circular room,  Matt presses his cheek near the cool stone of the wall and whispers, 'Can you hear me?'

     A second later, Alex's delighted laughter rings across the room and he has his answer.  Calling across to him, she asks excitedly, "How'd you do that?!"

     "It's a whispering gallery," Matt whispers at the wall, grin on his face.  "The architecture of this level carries any noise directed at the walls around the circumference of the room."

     Across from him, Matt watches Alex press herself to the wall, and a moment later he hears her awed whisper, "This is amazing."

     He grins, his eyes still on her.  Even as far from her as he is, Matt can see her beaming smile, and his heart does an embarrassing little flutter.

     "I've missed you," he whispers to her, trying to internally stamp down the well of emotions bubbling inside him as he speaks.

     "I've missed you, too, darling," comes her reply, shortly followed by, "And if I thought you'd allow it, I'd take you right here on the floor of this Church- in front of God and everyone."

     "Kingston!"  He squawks, straightening as his exclamation echoes throughout the room, needing no help at all from the circular architecture.

     Her light giggle carries across the wall, Matt's face red as he hisses back, "This is a _cathedral_ , Alex."

     She laughs again, hand sliding along the wall and her eyes on him as she makes her way around the room toward him.  "Just to be clear- you _don't_  want me to ravish you in a House of God?"  Her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket as she presses herself against him and whispers, "You don't want to be _Blessed_ , darling?"  The smile on her face is positively wicked. 

     "Such a tease, Alex," Matt rumbles, his hands briefly resting at her back before daring to sweep down to her bum.  Her arms move to drape over his shoulders as he hauls her flush against against him, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arse through the thin material of her dress.  Alex hums her approval, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she watches him with dark eyes.

     "Christ," Matt swears, giving a shuddering breath.  How is he supposed to resist her, with her warm curves pressed against him, the smell of her flowery shampoo invading his senses, and her looking at him like she wants nothing more than for him to kiss her?

    A sudden, loud clearing of a throat jolts him from his thoughts.  Looking over Alex's curls, Matt finds a cleric watching them, a mix of amusement and disapproval crossing his face.  Alex turns, immediately freezing upon seeing their intruder.

     "We close in five minutes," the cleric informs, giving them another slightly disapproving look before continuing his journey up the stairs.

     The silence the man leaves behind is broken by Matt's laugh, Alex joining in as she turns to face him once more.  Her eyes soft, and warm smile playing across her lips, Alex takes his hand and says, "Take me home, Agent Smith."

XxX

     The door to Matt's flat slams shut as he presses Alex against it, aligning his lean frame against her curves.  Alex grips at his shoulders, fingers digging into the material of his jacket, and anticipation sizzles through his bones as he realizes he finally has her alone.

     "Wait," Alex says.  "Give me your communicator."

     Frowning, Matt pulls the device from his pocket and hands it over, understanding suddenly as she powers it off and tosses it aside.  No more interruptions.

     "What about yours?"

     Alex grins.  "I left it at home."

     Matt huffs out a disbelieving laugh.  "Sir would kill you if he knew."

     Alex shrugs, drawing Matt's attention to the skin of her shoulder, bared by the thin straps of her dress.  One hand at her waist, the fingers of his other trail across her collarbone to her shoulder, catching on the strap and pulling it to rest down her arm.  Now, with her shoulder entirely bared, Matt dips his head to press a kiss there, slowly trailing his lips to her neck, and delighting in the small whimper she gives when his tongue darts out to taste the skin there.

     Moving up, Matt presses his forehead against hers, his hands running up and down her sides.  Alex curls her fingers into the hair at his neck, and after a moment of him remaining completely still, she questions, "What?"

     Grin on his face, he answers, "I'm waiting for the inevitable interruption."

     Alex laughs.  "Just shut up and kiss me, you ridiculous man."

     So he does, pressing her hard into the door and savoring the loving glint in her eye that he catches just before his lips meet hers.  The kiss is relief, an unspoken _finally_  between them, and it turns from something soft and sweet to eager desperation in a matter of moments.

     Matt groans as his tongue sweeps through her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips with a pressure he knows is bound to leave a mark.  The reality of the moment is bizarre.  He has been dreaming about this woman for months, and now here she is, pressed against him and kissing him like it was her lost in thoughts of him this whole time instead of the other way around.

     They break for air, but Matt finds himself incapable of keeping his lips off her, pressing urgent kisses to her jaw, neck, and the hollow of her throat.  Alex shivers, rolling her hips against his and Matt nearly chokes, his grip on her tightening enough to keep her pinned to the door.  His trousers are already tight enough, and he's not about to come in his pants before he even gets to touch her properly.

     Alex laughs, a low, amused rumble in her throat.  "Then I guess you better get your hands on me, darling."

     A flush spreads across his cheeks as he realizes he must have spoken aloud.  Ignoring his embarrassment, he responds with a growl and surges up to kiss that smug look right off her face.  Alex responds with enthusiasm, and he distantly thinks it wouldn't take much for him to lose himself entirely in her kisses. 

     Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, Alex moves his hand to her breast, impatient with his pace.  His fingers squeeze the soft flesh, his thumb sweeping out to brush over the stiff peak he can feel even through the layer of her dress.  Alex shudders, breaking the kiss and thumping her head back against the door.  Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her curls seem even wilder than normal.  A grin quirks at his lips at the sight, and he leans in for one more, brief, hard press of his lips against hers before taking a half-step back to critically eye the clothing she should definitely no longer be wearing.

     Alex starts to shrug out of her dress, but Matt halts her actions by gently squeezing her upper arms.  "No, sweetheart," he whispers as he leans in, giving a brief kiss to her temple as he reaches behind her for the zipper.  "Let me."

     His fingers find the little gold triangle, and the sound it makes as he pulls it downward causes his stomach to do a tiny flop of anticipation.  The dress gapes open once the zipper reaches its end, Matt running his hands up her spine and nearly shuddering at the feel of bare skin beneath his fingers.

     Slowly, he slides both straps down her arms, pulling the garment down to her waist and allowing gravity to take it all the way to the floor.  Save her tiny pair of deep red knickers, Alex now stands bare before him.  Swallowing thickly, Matt can hardly tear his eyes away from her curves long enough to meet her gaze and whisper, "Gorgeous."

     He has no idea what she was going to say in response, and he supposes he never will because in the next second he is reaching for her, hands pulling her to him and lips capturing a dusky pink nipple that just the sight of nearly has him drooling like a fool.  Alex cries out as he sucks, hands threading into his hair to keep him in place.  She is sensitive, he finds with delight, squirming against him in a matter of moments and causing him to relent, his mouth latching onto the skin at the side of her breast instead, finding that he suddenly wants nothing more than to mark her there.

     "That's going to be there for days," Alex admonishes breathlessly once he finishes, Matt only offering her a devilish grin as he turns to her other breast.  Her knees wobble the moment his mouth covers the stiff peak, Matt grinning into her skin and refusing to let up until her chest is heaving and splotched red from his attention.

     As he takes a moment to silently admire his work, Alex cups his face with one hand and brushes a tender thumb over his red, swollen lips.  "You look good like this, darling," she muses.

     Matt grins, trailing his fingers lightly across her now over-sensitive nipples and returning, "So do you, sweetheart."

     She kisses him then, her hands pushing at his jacket until it joins her dress on the floor.  His shirt follows right after, and the next thing he knows she is kicking her shoes off to the side and stepping out of the dress puddled around her ankles, pushing him to the floor once she is free.

     The tile of his kitchen is cool to the skin of his back, but that is the last thought on his mind as he suddenly has Alex straddling his waist.  As she bends down, he just glimpses a hint of her naughty smirk before she captures his lips with hers.  Her breasts are pressed against his chest, the ends of her curls tickling his face as he returns the kiss in earnest, and he thinks that the weight of a woman has never before felt so delicious.

     When she breaks from him with a small nip to his bottom lip, he has every intention of giving her a disagreeable pout.  But then, she presses her hips down against his own, rocking against him and creating a friction that kills any earlier protest and nearly has him seeing stars.

     "Christ- sweetheart- you can't," Matt chokes out, fingers digging harshly into the skin at her waist in a feeble attempt to get her stop.

     "Love it when you call me that," admits Alex with a smile as she straightens, tossing her curls over her shoulder and blessedly stilling the movement of her hips.  Matt relaxes his grip, eyes closing as he tries to steady his breathing. 

     His opportunity to gather himself is snatched away as Alex moves to sit on his shins, her fingers deftly working at the button and zip of his trousers.  She is fast, glancing up at him with that teasing smirk on her lips as she curls her fingers around the waistband of his jeans and pants.  In one motion, both articles of clothing are pulled from his hips to rest just above his knees, all of him now exposed before her.  

     His erection is a hard and heavy ache between his legs, and as Alex stares at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth, he thinks he could come from just her gaze alone.  Leaning forward, Alex runs her hands down the smooth planes of his chest, over the skin of his stomach, and finally to trace over his jutting hip bones. 

     "Beautiful," Alex murmurs, glancing up to meet his eyes as she wraps her hand around his cock.

     Matt inhales sharply at the touch, hips immediately lifting from the floor and a curse on his tongue.  Slowly, tortuously, Alex pumps her hand up and down his shaft, a wicked smile crossing her lovely face at the tremble of his thighs and the deep groan that is impossible for him to contain.

     Shifting, Alex moves to settle between his legs, licking her lips as she bends to taste him.  Hurriedly, Matt scrambles away from her touch, sweat already breaking across his skin and knowing her tongue would be his undoing.  At the disappointment that flashes across Alex's eyes, he surges forward to press a hard, reassuring kiss to her lips.

     "I'm not sure I would survive that pretty little mouth of yours," he admits in a rumble against her neck, smiling into her skin as she huffs out an amused laugh.

     "Let me taste you instead," Matt suggests, gently pushing at Alex's shoulders until she is spread on the floor, her golden curls fanning around her head and causing her to look like some sort of fallen angel.

     Alex hums her approval, spreading her legs as he situates himself between them, kicking his shoes and the rest of his clothing aside.  His hands roam over her thighs, his lips brushing at the inside of her knee and then inhaling greedily as he moves closer to her sex, able to smell her arousal despite the cover of her knickers.

     Fingers toying with the edge of the red fabric, Matt dons a smug grin and teases, "Red _and_  silky?  It's almost as if you were expecting me, Agent Kingston."

     Propping herself on her elbows, Alex levels him with a playful glare.  "I hate you."

     Grin widening and heart softening at the familiar words, Matt counters confidently, "You don't," and pulls her knickers down and off her legs.

     Alex is gorgeous everywhere, but especially here, Matt thinks.  Neat, dark curls at the apex, and when his thumbs spread her lips, he finds her pink and wet.  He wants nothing more than to utterly devour her.  Unable to resist, he ducks his head and licks a stripe from entrance to clit, Alex letting out a moan as he savors her taste.  Delving his tongue into her cunt, Matt is rewarded with even more beautiful sounds, and he finds he wants to dedicate himself to learning every sound of pleasure this woman can possibly make. 

     "God, darling, _yes_ ," Alex praises as he points his tongue and begins to focus solely on her clit.  He plans to stay there, face between her thighs, until she is a shuddering, shaking mess beneath him, and as Alex winds her fingers into his hair, her back arching from the floor as she gives another moan, Matt assumes her plans must be the same. 

     But then, moments later, she is pushing him away from her as she sits up, her eyes a bit glazed and her smile trembling as she parrots his earlier words, "I'm not sure if I can survive that pretty little mouth of yours."  Reaching for his hand, she requests instead, "Take me to bed, darling."

     Having no protests, Matt stands and pulls her with him to his feet.  He kisses her even as they walk, the trek to the bedroom proving to be much more difficult than it should be as they stumble and giggle their way, loathing to part from one another for even a moment.

     Alex spreads herself on his bed like that is where she has always belonged, and when Matt finally presses inside of her, he knows with sudden clarity that _this_  is where _he_  belongs.

     " _Alex_ ," Matt grits out between his teeth as he pumps his hips, his cock enveloped repeatedly by the soaking warmth of her cunt and creating the most delicious sensation.

     Alex moans in response, rolling her hips to meet his every thrust and her hands gripping tightly at his biceps.  They rush toward release together, skin slapping against skin in a hard, fast motion that is constantly thrown off rhythm by the need for wet, sloppy kisses.

     It's not long before Matt is shaking with the need to let go, his hand slipping between their sweat-slicked bodies in an effort to bring her with him.  Looking at her fully, Matt gives another groan.  Her cheeks are flushed, her skin is gorgeously bruised from his mouth, and a smirk hides at the edges of her lips even as she moans, matching the unholy light in her eyes that has nearly set him aflame.     

     "So beautiful, sweetheart," he breathes, thumb flicking at her clit and she is gone, body going taut and throwing her head back as she comes, his name torn from her throat.

     Pressing his face hard into her neck, Matt follows after her with a cry, spilling inside her and hips stuttering unevenly until he is spent.

     The silence that follows is only broken by their heavy panting as they try to catch their breaths.  Rolling off of her, Matt flops on his back beside her, cool air blessedly washing over his heated skin.  Alex takes his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and when he turns to look at her, his heart sings at the sight of her sated smile, her eyes closed, and damp curls sticking to her face and neck.

     Lifting their hands, Matt presses a soft kiss to her knuckles and pulls Alex into his side before allowing himself to drift to sleep.

     When he wakes the next morning, she is still there, leg tucked between his and curls obstructing his vision.   He wants to stay there with her, rouse her with soft kisses and convince her to stay in bed with him all day.  But he has a mission to do, so he slips silently from the bed and prepares quietly for his day.

     Alex remains sound asleep, and in the moment before he leaves, his heart lurches at the thought that she might not stay.  They hadn't discussed anything, merely went on a date that ended with her in his bed.  He isn't oblivious, he knows they both had been wanting this since practically the beginning, but what now?

     Sighing, Matt admonishes himself for not making his intentions entirely clear.  Not in the ' _I love you and no longer understand what life is without you'_ kind of way- that would scare the hell out of her, he is sure.  No, something more like ' _hey I adore you and if I have to go one more day without your terrible humming in my kitchen I might just go mad_.' 

     But he didn't say that, didn't say anything at all, and now he is frankly terrified that he is going to return from his mission to an empty flat and be right back where he was when she was transferred away from him two weeks ago.

     Refusing to entertain the thought a moment longer, Matt presses a goodbye kiss to Alex's brow and leaves a note on the bedside table that simply says, " _Stay_."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	7. if you don't slip and tumble someone will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pushing open the heavy door, Alex is subjected to a second round of security, her mind worryingly blank as she sets aside her gun and communicator and steps through the monitor. Giving a barely audible, "Thank you," to the guards once her things are safely back on her person, Alex winds her way through corridors and up stairs much in the same manner that has completely taken over her since she received the news- slowly, stuck in denial, and her mind warring with itself to decide if she should drown in her emotions, or push everything aside until her anger is the only thing left to keep her going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank you guys enough for all your feedback, it means everything!!!! <3
> 
> Chapter title from The Well by Trixie Mattel

_Day One_

     Alex's fingers shake as she swipes her identification badge to gain access into Headquarters.  The keypad flashes red and beeps out a negative tone.  Closing her eyes, she forces herself to take a breath and steady her hand before trying again. 

     Green.

     Pushing open the heavy door, Alex is subjected to a second round of security, her mind worryingly blank as she sets aside her gun and communicator and steps through the monitor.  Giving a barely audible, "Thank you," to the guards once her things are safely back on her person, Alex winds her way through corridors and up stairs much in the same manner that has completely taken over her since she received the news- slowly, stuck in denial, and her mind warring with itself to decide if she should drown in her emotions, or push everything aside until her anger is the only thing left to keep her going.

     It doesn't sound like much of a choice, but everything within her feels completely shut down and the first option seems more appealing than one might think.  After all, when a person goes missing, death tends to follow within the first seven hours.  Alex glances at her watch.  It's been almost twelve.

     Approaching the door to Sir's office, she enters without knocking, finding him huddled over a stack of papers with a weary expression on his face.  At her entrance, he glances up before immediately standing.  "Alex," the man greets, hovering undecided for a moment before enveloping her in a hug.

     It is meant as a comforting gesture, and in any other situation it might have worked, but now it only brings more anguish.  Alex merely stands there, the hug one-sided as her body tenses and a lump forms in her throat.  A hug isn't want she wants.  What she _wants_  is proof that everything that can be done is being done, and reassurance that everything will be fine.

     Releasing her, Sir takes a step back and leans against his desk, palm dragging across his face.  "I'm sorry, Alex."

     Alex looks at him incredulously and finally finds her voice.  "Agent Smith is missing, and you're ' _sorry_ '?"

     Agent Smith is missing.   _Agent Smith is missing_.

     The words repeat in her head until she feels dizzy, her breath stolen by thinking on it for even a moment, and her chest aching as if she had been physically wounded.

     Sir frowns at the bite in her tone.  "All I meant is that I know he meant a great deal to you."

     Alex flinches at the man's choice of words.  Past tense.  "Of course he does.  He's my agent."

     "Was," counters Sir as he watches her knowingly.  "He _was_  your agent.  You were released from that mission over two weeks ago."

     In a voice that sounds too calm to possibly belong to her in this moment, Alex gives a shake of her head and says, "You're putting me back on it."

     Standing straight at her words, Sir looks at her as if she's lost the plot.  Maybe she has.  Frankly, she couldn't care less.  "I am _not_  transferring you back to the Assembly mission."

     "You are," Alex states, her eyes narrowing and her voice cold, and ah, there's that anger she's been looking for.

     Sir opens his mouth to protest further but is interrupted by her next words- "Three months."

     "What?"

     " _Three months_.  On my last mission- before the Assembly- I was caught and detained by the enemy, and I was there _three months_  before anyone could get me out.  I refuse to allow the same fate to befall Agent Smith.  You're putting me back on the mission."

     Her tone is definitive, her words non-negotiable, and Sir presses his lips into a thin, unhappy line before nodding his consent.  "Fine.  But only as an observer."

     "No.  Handler."

     "Agent Price is the handl-,"

     " _Agent Price failed to do her job_ ," seethes Alex.  "You're putting me on the mission as the handler or I'll go find him all by my bloody self!"  Her tongue is sharp, her breathing harsh, and her eyes lit with a rage she has never known.   It's better this way, she thinks.  Allowing herself to feel anything else would only bring disaster, leaving her distraught,  hollow, and utterly useless.  But channeling all of her emotions- fear, hopelessness, grief- into anger will be enough to fuel her until Matt has been brought safely home.

     Sir concedes to her demands, holding up his hands in surrender.  "Okay, okay."  The man sighs wearily.  "Just get him back safely, Alex."

     Without another word, Alex turns and marches out the door, purpose in her step and mind racing as she decides on what actions need to be taken first. 

     Her agent is in danger, and the clock is ticking.

_Day Two_

     Alex sits isolated in one of the many computer labs, the lights off save for what the screen of her computer provides.  Her fingers fly furiously across the keyboard in an attempt to break the encryption covering Agent Smith's tracker.  The Assembly didn't just destroy his tracker, they hacked it so she wouldn't be able to see his last known whereabouts.  If she can just get that location, she would at least have a lead. 

     Irritation sparks as the door to the lab creaks open, disturbing her solitude.

     "Alex," greets Agent Darvill as he flips on the light, causing her to wince.

     "Arthur," she responds, her tone distracted as she keeps her focus on the screen.

     He sighs, moving over to her table.  "You need to get some rest."

     "I will.  As soon as Agent Smith is home."

     Alex can practically feel his disapproving frown, his next words no surprise.  "I meant _now_.  Exhausting yourself isn't going to help him, Alex."

     Finally her friend has her full attention, her gaze sharp.  "And _sleeping_ would be even less helpful, Arthur."

     Agent Darvill watches her carefully.  "You're really worried, aren't you?"

     "What do you think," Alex snaps, distantly realizing that she's being too harsh.  "The group we've been chasing after for months has him _hostage_.  They are ruthless- we've seen them steal and murder without a second thought _so of course I am bloody worried_!"

     A beat of silence, her words ringing in her ears and her lip giving a slight tremble, exposing the anger as nothing more than a mask for her fear.

     "You love him," Arthur observes.

     Lips pressed tightly together, Alex refocuses her attention on her computer screen.  It's not a question but she finds herself responding anyway, her chest tight and her voice small.  "Yes.  I love him."

     Despite her stubbornness, Arthur forces her from her chair and crushes her into a hug.  Clinging to her friend's shirt, face pressed into his shoulder, Alex finally allows herself to cry.

_Day Five_

     She is numb.

     It's been five days since Matt's tracker blipped off the radar, and she is no closer to finding him than she was on day one.  She hasn't slept, she barely eats, and she is beginning to see the visual toll it is taking.

     Washing herself with a cloth in one of the many bathrooms throughout Headquarters, Alex studiously avoids looking in the mirror.  She knows what she will find- pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, and hair too unkempt to seem like it was done on purpose.  Not to mention the now almost completely faded marks on her neck and chest from Matt's enthusiasm during their night together.  Seeing them is only a painful reminder to how quickly things can change.

     It used to be that she wanted to pull him into her bed and that was it.  Then he dragged her along to visit his family, shared Chinese takeout with her on the floor of his flat, twirled her around her kitchen in the middle of doing dishes until she was unsure of what she truly wanted.  She didn't realize until she was transferred away that somewhere in the midst of all of that, he had stolen her heart. 

     And then, their night away from secret intelligence missions and danger, on their walk from that little cafe to the cathedral, she held his hand and suddenly realized she could see it, she could see exactly what she wanted.  Him.  Always.

     What was more was that she knew Matt wanted it, too.  She saw it in his smile, heard it in the way he said her name, felt it in the way he touched her.  No bedside note was needed, but the confirmation had brought joy nonetheless.  Her fingers trace the note now, folded and carefully tucked to her chest by the strap of her bra.  She had stayed, just like he requested.  Now she just has to get him back.

      There is a knock on the bathroom door, an urgent rapping of knuckles against wood.  It startles Alex into looking up, meeting her reflection and immediately wincing.  Worse than she thought.

     "What?"  Alex calls, her voice rough from not enough use.  If she doesn't absolutely have to talk, she doesn't.  It takes energy she doesn't possess.

     "Alex," comes Arthur's voice through the door.  "You...you need to come see this."

     Dragging a weary hand over her face, Alex sighs.  "Kind of busy at the moment, dear."

     "No, Alex.  You have to come see this.  Now."

     The edge in his voice is enough to make her grudgingly comply, re-buttoning her shirt before unlocking the door and stepping out.  Arthur leads her to a viewing room where a large screen is fitted into an even larger wall.  It's perfect for being able to catch detail in security footage, videos, or any photograph that relates to the current mission.  What is displayed there now instantly steals Alex's breath, making her feel like she has taken a rather nasty blow to the chest.

     The screen is still, the video paused, but that doesn't keep her from immediately understanding what she's looking at.  It seems the Assembly has produced a video, a significant upgrade from their usual riddle bullshit.  The image before her is of Agent Smith, bound and slumped on the floor with his back against a dirty, dark cobblestone wall.  Wherever he is, it is dark, the light from the camera throwing odd shadows against his figure.  Despite the cloth bag covering his head, Alex knows it is Matt, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she scans him for signs of damage.  There are no obvious visible wounds, but somehow that fails to put her at ease.

     "Press play," Alex demands.

     The video begins, but the frame never moves from Matt and the pair of laced up boots that remain beside him- an Assembly guard, Alex assumes.

     A voice speaks.  "There will be no negotiation.  Our demands are simple.  Let the Assembly be until the first of June, and your agent will go free- alive and unharmed.  You have two weeks to decide."

     Alex nearly scoffs aloud.  June is nearly three months away.  Even if they upheld their end of the bargain, Alex seriously doubts Matt would be kept safe by the enemy for that amount of time.  Their words mean nothing to her, and she knows without having to give a second thought that she will continue to work to bring Matt home as soon as possible.  And she hopes to burn the Assembly to the ground in the process.

     The screen turns black, leaving only four lines of white letters.  Another riddle.

     Quickly, her eyes scan over the lines.  It takes her reading it only once for her to comprehend the Assembly's next target- too simple.  It's bait, she concludes.  They _want_ her to figure it out.  Alex can practically hear them taunting her-   _Come for us, and we kill him.  Don't, and we win_.

     It might would be enough to scare any other agent into compliance, but not Alex.  For the first time in five days, she smiles.

_Day Eight_

    "I should have recognized you at the cafe."

    Alex jumps at the female voice and slams her laptop shut.  Finally she managed to break the encryption on Matt's lost tracker and hack into its history, but she isn't quite willing to share the information.  Especially with the woman standing before her.

    "Agent Price," Alex greets, pasting on a smile.

    "Agent Kingston," the woman returns as she sits across from Alex.  "I would have introduced myself that night if I had known.  Which I  _should_ have.  He went on about you like crazy."

    Alex's smile feels tight, and honestly chit-chat about Matt is the last thing she wants. 

     "Not to be rude, dear, but is there something you want?"

    "I know I was removed from the mission because of your..."  She trails off, as if looking for the right word, then continues, " _investment_."  Agent Price's gaze turns sharp, and Alex realizes that she is not here to make nice.

    Agitation crawls under Alex's skin, and she bites her tongue against words that could come out as too harsh.  After all, there is a high possibility that Matt would be safe if Agent Price had physically been with him instead of sitting on her arse at Headquarters.

    "Of course I'm invested.  Agent Smith and I have been on this mission since the beginning."

    Agent Price purses her lips.  "Some might say you're  _too_ invested.  Don't you think?"

    Alex narrows her eyes.  "No.  I don't."

    The other woman hums.  "Well, all we can hope is that your emotional attachment doesn't place Agent Smith in even more danger."

    Briefly, Alex fantasizes about kicking Agent Price's chair out from under her.

    "After all," Agent Price continues, "it doesn't seem like you took the Assembly's warning seriously."  She looks pointedly at Alex's computer.  "You're still going after them."

    "I don't see how it's any of your business, Agent Price.  You're no longer on the mission."

    "You're going to Hatton Garden, then?"

    The Hatton Garden Safe Deposit is home to diamonds that are easily worth millions.  It's the Assembly's next target, but Alex has no interest.  She's done playing their game.

     "Yes," Alex lies.  Part out of spite, and part because she knows if Agent Price were aware of her true plan, Sir would hear about it within seconds.  She isn't quite ready for him to know.

    "Well," says Agent Price as she stands and pushes in her chair.  "I hope any recklessness on your part doesn't result in Agent Smith's death."

_Day Thirteen_

"You're  _what_?!"

    Sir looks her as if she just spoke to him in tongues.  Slowly this time, Alex states, "I'm infiltrating the Assembly's base." 

    Sir watches her blankly, prompting her to wave her hand and add, "Well, it may not be their base, but whatever it is, I'm eighty percent sure Agent Smith is there."

    "Eighty percent?  Alex, I need  _one hundred_ percent."

    "Fine," Alex says, crossing her arms.  "I'm one hundred percent sure Agent Smith is there."

    "You're lying."

    "Well the only way for us to know for sure is for me to go."

    "Go where, exactly?"

    "The Edinburgh Vaults."

    "Wait."  His fingers rub at his temples.  "Scotland?  That place with the ghost tours?"

    "They only tour April through July, and even then only a few sections are open to the public.  Most of it has either been condemned or is closed permanently."

    "Why do you think Agent Smith is there?"

    "I hacked back into his tracker," Alex explains.  "I think the building he went to investigate was a trap.  They captured him, and then just as they crossed into Scotland the tracker disappeared.  I researched nearby abandoned buildings, and the cobblestone in the video matches the Vaults perfectly."

    Sir gives a heavy sigh.  "I don't like it."

    Refusing to back down, Alex states, "I'm going."

    Sir softens and bestows her with a weary smile.  "I know."

_Day Nineteen_

Spring is just a few weeks away, but in Scotland one would never know it.  Alex pulls her light jacket tight around her and wishes that she had brought something warmer.  It is early March, the sky is a blanket of grey, and the breeze in the air seems to wrap around her and seep through her clothing to chill her skin.  Still, the cold is a distant thought as she weaves through the streets of Edinburgh.  All her focus is on her agent.

     Alex turns off of the busy street and begins to walk the narrower path of an alleyway.  A small pub is tucked into the building at her left, but other than that it seems completely deserted.  Doors are boarded up, windows have been covered in graffiti, and the sound of the city becomes hushed and distant.  Not a soul is on this path with her, and she is unsure if that puts her at ease or adds to her distress.

     It's been two weeks since the Assembly's warning video, meaning her time is up.  They gave her two weeks to decide- either stop pursuing them or Agent Smith dies.  The sand in the hourglass is out, and she knows that tonight the Assembly will be at Hatton Garden, and tonight Agent Smith's fate will be decided.

    Waiting to make her move has nearly driven her spare.  She wanted to storm the Vaults the moment she figured it was where Matt was held, but Sir talked her off her ledge.  It is logical to assume that while the Assembly is breaking into the diamond safe, less guards will be on duty at the Vaults, making her task easier and safer. 

     Stopping before her destination, Alex sends a silent prayer and hopes that Sir is right.

    The bronze plaque by the door reads  _Edinburgh Vaults est. 1788._   Alex delicately steps over the rope blocking the entrance, ignoring the notice that says  _Closed for the season_.  Lock pick in hand, she kneels before the weathered door, and it takes only a moment before she hears the satisfying  _click_ of the lock.  The door gives a creak as it swings inward, revealing the darkness beyond.

    Swallowing tightly, Alex steps across the threshold, a dank, musty smell washing over her.  She closes the door, immersing herself in darkness.  With the flick of a switch, her communicator becomes a torch and throws a small beam of light onto her surroundings. 

    Everything has been covered in big sheets- a desk, chairs, two tables.  On the wall hangs a mount for brochures, and Alex snatches one of the maps.  Unfolding it, she directs the torch over the map and sighs when she sees that it doesn't cover the condemned areas.  Nothing is ever easy.

     Alex lightly hops down the steps leading to door that is no doubt the entrance to the Vaults.  Taking a breath, she pulls on the rusted ring that is the handle and refuses to entertain the idea that once she returns to this spot, it might be without Agent Smith. 

     The heavy door clangs shut behind her, creating an echo in the long tunnel.  Alex shines her torch ahead of her, but is unable to see the end.  As she walks, there are plaques built into the walls and display cases holding artifacts- part of the tours, she knows.  Glancing up, there are hanging lamps, cobwebs strung between the fixtures.  She wonders if the webs are real or fabricated by the touring company to add effect.

     The first condemned area she comes across is effectively blocked by the stone and earth that has fallen across the path.  She inspects every crack, looking for something that doesn't seem natural, but comes up empty.  Briefly tucking her communicator under her arm, she pulls a pen from her pocket and marks an _X_ over this area of the map.  If the Assembly are somehow in the tunnel beyond, the entrance is bound to be located elsewhere.

    Shining the torch in front of her, Alex begins to make her way to the next dead end.  Focused on the map to make sure she doesn't make a wrong turn, she is startled when a low voice exclaims, "Oi!  Did you see that?"

    Heart flying to her throat, Alex hurriedly clicks off her torch and steps into one of the side tunnels.  Running her hands along the cobblestone, she finds a display case and rounds to its opposite side.  She presses her back to the cold stone and closes her eyes, as if that could make her disappear.  Footsteps come from the main tunnel, and the same voice from before insists, "I know I saw somethin'!"

    Alex's eyes open just as a beam of light flashes in front of her and she prays that the display case provides enough cover.  Then, the light is gone and she hears their footsteps as they continue further down the main tunnel.

    Letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding, Alex quietly moves back into the central passage and quickly finds the side tunnel where the two men had been keeping guard.  Looking behind her, she can no longer see the light from their torches, but she knows she is on borrowed time.  Alex flicks the light on from her communicator and shines it in front of her.

    Not ten feet into this tunnel is a large scissor gate, a sign hanging from it that warns, _CONDEMNED_.  Alex grins as she approaches the gate.  This is exactly what she's been looking for.  The lock takes no time to pick, and then she is quietly pushing aside the gate to slip through.  The metal creaks only a little as she closes it back, but it's enough to make her wince. 

     Heart pounding away in her chest, Alex turns and shines her torch down the dark tunnel.  This isn't on the map.  She's on her own from here on out.

     "Please be here somewhere, darling," Alex whispers to the darkness.  Then she is moving, walking swiftly down the tunnel until it forces her to turn right, thankfully now out of sight should the two men return to their post.

    The deeper she goes, the more humid the air becomes, sticking uncomfortably to her skin.  It smells like damp earth, mold, and ash, and it's nearly enough to make her gag.  Still, she continues.

    Since established, the Vaults have been used for a number of things.  Underground taverns, workshops, storage, shelters for the homeless, and even illegal gambling hideouts.  Once there was rumor that this is where serial killers hid the bodies of their victims.  A shiver crawls up her spine, and she decides not to think on it.

    The tunnel reaches an end and splits into two.  To her left is a door about fifteen feet away, and to her right the darkness seems to stretch forever.  Alex decides on the door.

    Once she reaches it, she presses her ear to the cold wood and listens.  Silence.  Pulling her gun out of its holster, Alex grips it tightly and slowly enters the room.  What greets her catches her by surprise.  The small room is cramped with a large desk that holds four computers, all basking the space in a soft blue glow.  Glancing behind her, Alex sits in the lone chair and wonders how they possibly managed to get these running so far underground.

    Alex reaches into her pocket and pulls out a tiny flash drive, glad that she thought to bring one.  It's coded to steal all the information on any given computer, and Alex finds herself smiling as she plugs it in.  The Assembly's secrets are about to be hers.

    As the flash drive does its job, Alex turns to the monitor displaying security feed.  Her eyes scan the images being projected from six different cameras.  The front door.  The condemned entrance.  The security room.  A large, open area that she hasn't yet seen.  A towering safe tucked into one of the vaults in one of the many tunnels.  Her eyes linger on that image, and Alex knows it must hold all of the Assembly's stolen wealth.  But she's not here for that, she's here for-

     Her breath catches as her eyes land on the final image.  One of the vaults has been covered by another scissor gate, and inside is a figure slumped on the floor.  Alex's heart races, and she knows she has found her agent.

    The flash drive finishes its work, and Alex rips it out of the computer.  Turning back to the security monitor, her shaking fingers fly over the keyboard as she erases the footage back to before she entered the Vaults.  She turns off the system, hoping that when someone turns it back on they will account the lost footage to some idiot turning off the cameras instead of suspecting tampering by an unwanted visitor.

    Alex exits the security room and shines her torch down the long tunnel that stretches before her.  Matt is here, she just has to find him.

    The tunnels branch and turn until Alex isn't entirely sure that she could easily make her way back.  The Vaults themselves are small, rectangular indents into the walls of the tunnels.  Most of them only stretch about a legs worth back and is only wide enough for a person to lay down.  Unlike in the touring section, these vaults are not empty.  Most of them are full to the brim with crates or barrels.  She even sees a few that contain locked chests.  Curiosity itches at her to pause and dig into the Assembly's belongings, but she resists.  Her agent comes first.

    She walks quickly, nearly in a jog as she flashes her torch to the left and right of her as she passes the vaults.  Her light catches on something reflective up ahead, and Alex stops in her tracks.  Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly moves forward, the metal grating of the scissor gate taking shape with each step.

    Her eyes are wide and her steps are slow, and suddenly Alex realizes that she is scared.  Scared that Matt won't be behind the gate, that he's somewhere miles away from her.  Scared that maybe he is here, that his body is _physically_ here, but the rest of him is gone.  Scared that she lost him the moment his tracker blipped off the radar.

    Alex tightens her grip on her communicator and pushes herself forward.

    "Matt?"  Alex whispers as she approaches the gate.

    The form within the vault doesn't stir.

    Swearing under her breath, Alex fishes the lock pick out of her pocket.  It takes longer with this one than the others, her fingers shaking and all of her fears threatening to swallow her whole.  When she finally gets it, she collapses the gate into the wall and kneels before the man lying cramped within the small space.

    Flashing her communicator over the body, Alex's heart rockets into her throat.  His head may be covered, but it is definitely her agent.  Scanning him over, Alex takes in the bruises across his skin and feels herself detach.  It's like she's watching from above as her fingers reach and press to his throat, searching for a pulse. 

    Tears spring to her eyes as she feels the reassuring  _thud thud_ of his heart.

    He's alive.

    "Matt..." Alex whispers again, reaching for the cloth sack covering his head and gently removing it.  A small knife is strapped to her arm, and she uses it to quickly slice through the ties binding his wrists and ankles.

    Once he is free, Alex takes in his face for the first time and flinches at what she sees.  A swollen, purple eye.  A split, bloody lip.  Dark bruising along the left side of his face.  Her hands run along his neck, over his arms, across his torso, and down his legs, searching for injuries.  Possible broken arm; ribs at least fractured.

    Taking a steadying breath, Alex pulls the pin from her watch that will alert Sir that she needs his assistance.  He is only a couple blocks away, waiting in a car should something go wrong.   At first she had resisted his help, but now she finds herself grateful.  Getting Matt out of here by herself would be impossible.

    Alex shifts so she can pull Matt into her lap.  Her fingers card through his hair as she coaxes, "Darling, wake up."

    His good eye flutters, the other remaining swollen shut.

    "Come on, darling, look at me."

    Matt's eye opens fully, looking glazed over as he tries to focus.  His eye finally trains on her, going wide when he registers that she is here.  His hand flies up, gripping at the material of her jacket, and his mouth moves to say  _Alex_ , but it only comes out as a dry rasp.

    Smoothing her hand over his hair, Alex promises, "We're getting you out of here."  She glances at her watch, then looks down the dark tunnel.  It's only a matter of time before someone switches back on the security camera and finds her here.

    Looking back at Matt, she asks, "Do you think you can walk?"  They might not be able to make it far, but they'll at least be able to meet Sir in the middle.

    Matt gives a determined nod, and after some effort they manage to get him to his feet.  His arm is thrown around Alex's shoulder, and she holds him securely at the waist.  Every step causes him pain, but he grits his teeth and continues forward.

    They're almost to the first turn in the tunnel when Alex makes out a beam of light coming from around the corner.  Hurriedly, she turns off the light from her communicator.  The other light bobs against the turn as the stranger nears, and Alex looks at Matt in panic.  His good eye is trained ahead on the light, his mouth set in a grim line.

    "It could be Sir," Alex whispers.  She hesitates then adds, "But it could be someone else, too."

    Being forced to make a quick decision, Alex guides Matt over to the vault on their right.  Crates are stacked precariously within the space, and she helps Matt to the ground behind them.  He grips her hand as she pulls away, and Alex can read the fear in his eyes.

    "I can't hide with you- they already know someone is here."

    His grip tightens, and Alex gives a soft smile as she kneels before him.  Reaching in her shirt, she pulls out the small slip of paper that she keeps tucked to her chest.  Placing it in his hand, she curls his fingers around it and presses a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

    "Stay," Alex says, echoing the word written on the paper.

    Matt gives a reluctant nod, and Alex clasps her watch around his wrist.  "If anything happens, Sir will find you with this.  I already sent the signal, so he should be here in a matter of minutes."

    She hates to leave him, but the footsteps are becoming louder.  Alex steps out from behind the crates and turns on her torch.  No point in hiding now. 

    The figure rounds the corner, and Alex's grip on her communicator loosens at the familiar face.

    She frowns, confused.  "Agent Price?  What are you doing here?"

    "Agent Kingston," the other woman greets with a smile.  "Sir sent me to help, of course."

    Alex's frown deepens as Agent Price flashes her torch to the left and right, the woman's brow scrunched together like she's searching for something.

    Only Sir knew Alex was breaking into the Vaults, and they both wanted to keep it that way.  It's the entire reason that Sir himself came as her backup.  The less people who knew, the less chance there was of her mission being compromised.

    Apparently not finding what she's looking for, Agent Price trains her attention back on Alex.  "I should have known you weren't really going to show up at Hatton Garden."

    Agent Price seems very calm, considering the situation, Alex thinks.

    Glancing around once more, the woman asks, "So where is Agent Smith?"

    Too calm, Alex decides as her mind races.  Her gut churns with some unnamed feeling, and it causes her to lie, "He's long gone.  Sir retrieved him ages ago."

    Agent Price arches a disbelieving brow, and something about it puts Alex on edge.  "So what exactly are you still doing down here, then?"

    "Further investigation.  We need to know everything we can about our enemy."

    This time, when Agent Price smiles it sends a chill down her spine.

    "It's funny," the woman speaks, "how little you actually know."

    Something has suddenly gone very wrong very quickly, Alex thinks.  Her brain scrambles to put the pieces together, but she comes up empty, leaving her silent.

    "And we'd like to keep it that way," Agent Price says as she levels a gun at Alex.

    The woman looks at her expectantly, and the realization that washes over Alex leaves her numb. 

     Agent Price belongs to the Assembly. 

    "My father thinks that toying with you, Agent Smith, and the other fools at MI6 is fun.   _I_ think you're more trouble than you're worth."

    Something clicks at Agent Price's words, and suddenly the missing pieces seem to fall into place.  She can't believe how blind she's been.

    Alex reaches for her gun, but a shot goes off before her hand ever reaches the holster.  Pain bursts through the right side of her chest, and she hears herself cry out.  The world twists, it feels like she's falling, and then-

    Darkness.

 

 

 


	8. don't dig my grave till i'm gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the penny drops! ...Mostly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to everyone who leaves comments- I have so much love for you!!!!!!
> 
> Chapter title from A Song to Come Home To by Jinkx Monsoon

 

 

    She feels...heavy.  Like her limbs are made of lead.  Her mouth is as dry as cotton, and when she opens her eyes everything is blurry.  Alex blinks until her surroundings become sharper. 

     A hospital room.

     Suddenly, everything rushes back to her.  The Vaults.  Finding Matt.  Agent Price.  Agent Price  _not_ being Agent Price. 

     A gun.

     Alex closes her eyes again and begins a mental check.  Toes are fine, legs feel good.  No pain around the ribs, arms work, and her fingers all wiggle freely.  She moves her neck with no problem, though there is a dull tug of pain from the right side of her chest.  Opening her eyes again, Alex tries to move to get a better look at her wound, but finds her wrist is bound to the hospital bed. 

    And her other wrist.

    And both ankles.

    Her heart begins to race.  Not in friendly territory, then.

    Panic claws at her throat but Alex forces herself to swallow it as she tugs experimentally at her bonds.  The tie on her left wrist is unforgiving, but the other seems secured rather sloppily.  She pulls harder with her right wrist and feels the tie begin to slip.  Two more tugs and she is free, her brow scrunching in confusion.  Too easy.  Perhaps she is in friendlier territory than she thought.       

    With her free hand, Alex lifts the neck of her itchy hospital gown to peek at her injury.  It's thickly bandaged, and there isn't much pain, which must mean she has been given a high dose of pain killers.  She's been shot before, but honestly she was hoping not to make a habit of it.

    Reaching with her right hand, she grits her teeth and yanks the IV needle from its home in her left arm.  The last thing she needs is hazy judgement from whatever medicine is being given to her. 

    Alex fumbles with the knot at her left wrist, her fingers feeling heavy.  It finally gives, and she slips her wrist from the tie just as the door to her room opens.  Quickly, Alex pulls her blanket back up and mimics her earlier position.  

    "Miss Worth," Alex greets as the figure fully enters.  Her voice is calm, but her heart feels as if it's going to pound right out of her chest.

    The woman who she previously knew as Agent Price takes a seat at her bedside.  Elaine offers a cool smile, and Alex's fingers itch to wrap around the woman's skinny throat.

    "Agent Kingston," the woman acknowledges with a sigh.  "I must admit I thought our fun little conversations were over."

    A humorless grin pulls at Alex's lips.  "Well your aim was shite."  She enjoys the way Elaine's face pinches before adding, "You should've taken lessons from your sister."

    "Ah, yes.  The Mint," Elaine muses as she visibly relaxes.  "Elise shot the security camera to activate the plate lock down, didn't she?"  An amused smile crosses her lips.  "If my sister's account of that night is accurate, she did a rather remarkable job of riling you up."  Elaine tsks.  "It made it only too easy for Agent Smith to become a target."

    The mention of Matt causes the smile to slip from Alex's face. 

     Where is he?  Is he safe?  Is he even alive?

    "Oh don't worry about him," speaks Elaine with a wave of her hand.  "Lover boy is being treated on the level below.  You should be much more concerned about yourself."

    "And why is that?"

    "You said it yourself- my aim was shite."  Elaine stands and pulls a small syringe from her pocket.  "This time I won't miss."

    Blood rushes through her ears, and Alex clenches her fists in an effort not to move.  Her eyes dart around the room, her brain scrambling to find anything that could be a potential weapon.  Elaine might not know that her wrists are freed and the IV is no longer attached, but it won't take long for her to figure it out.  Her ankles are still bound, and if she doesn't figure out something quick she won't have much of a chance to fight back.

    "No point in trying to escape," Elaine speaks calmly as she holds the syringe up to the light, squinting as she inspects it.  "Even if you managed to, it wouldn't do you any good."

    "And why not?"  Alex asks, hoping to buy more time with conversation.

    Elaine gives a smile.  "Oh haven't you heard?"  She waves her hand and speaks as if she were reading a headline, "Agent Kingston, the Best of MI6:  Traitor."

    Alex scoffs.  "No one would believe that."

    "Oh but my story was very convincing.  You've been working against this mission since the start, and you nearly succeeded in offing Agent Smith.  Lucky thing I showed up at the Vaults to stop you."

    "You're mad," Alex states, wrapping her fingers around the cord of the IV as Elaine nears.

    "Mad or not, my story will be the only one with you gone."  Elaine waves the syringe.  "Such a shame that the nurse accidentally gave you an overdose of morphine."

    The woman moves to inject the drug into the IV, and Alex uses the distraction to her advantage.  In a flash, she has the IV cord over Elaine's neck and yanks.  Elaine's face crashes hard into the railing of the bed.  Alex takes the stunned moment to throw back her covers and unbuckle the strap around her left ankle. 

     Elaine stands, letting out a string of profanity as she shuts her eyes tight and presses her hands to her forehead in an attempt to alleviate the ache.  The woman's nose is bleeding, but Alex doesn't have time to gloat.  Quickly, she stretches and grabs the visitor's chair next to the bed.  Her injury screams as she hoists up the chair and hurls it with all her might at her opponent.  Elaine crashes against the opposite wall, and Alex swiftly frees herself of her last bind.

     She takes her first step out of the bed too quickly and her knees buckle.  Alex grabs the edge of the bed to keep from falling, and she hears Elaine growl as she stands up and tosses the chair aside.

     Elaine unsheathes a knife strapped to her arm, using her other hand to wipe blood from her face as she seethes, "I'm so fucking tired of you."

     Alex feels a grin appear at her lips.  "Well I'm right here, honey.  Do your worst."  

    Elaine leaps, throwing herself across the bed and right at Alex.  It's a reckless move, one that Alex anticipated.  Mentally she is prepared for the assault, but her body moves slower than she predicted.  Her limbs are tired and heavy, and Alex and is unable to dodge the attack in time.  Elaine slams into her, sending them both toppling to the floor.  There is a flash of silver, and Alex rolls just in time, feeling only the gentle  _whoosh_ of air by her face.

     The knife sticks in the cheap laminate of the floor, and Elaine gives a grunt as she rips it free.  Alex is on her feet when the woman lunges again, her knife swiping only an inch from Alex's throat.  Elaine's form is sloppy, but she is fast, slashing until Alex finds her back against the wall.

    "End of the line, Agent Kingston," Elaine speaks through a pant as she points the tip of the knife to Alex's neck.

    "Go on, then," Alex says.  "Slit my throat.  The blood on your hands will easily blow your cover."

    Elaine's eyes narrow as Alex's words set in.  Her grip on the knife loosens as she thinks, and Alex uses that moment to make her move.  Her fingers close around Elaine's wrist like an iron claw, pushing the knife away as her other fist swings and lands a blow to her opponent's face before the woman can even register what is happening.  There is a  _crack_ , and if Elaine's nose wasn't broken before, it definitely is now.  Alex delivers a swift kick to the gut, and there is the victorious sound of the knife clanking to the ground as Elaine groans and doubles over.

     Wasting no time, Alex grabs the knife and slams the hilt of it to Elaine's head in one hard blow.  The woman instantly collapses to the ground, unconscious.  Kneeling, Alex presses her fingers to the woman's throat and is relieved to feel a pulse.  She's of no use dead.

     Then, the door to the hospital room is thrown open and Alex immediately straightens.  Sir stands at the threshold, eyes nearly bulging as he takes in the picture before him.

     Alex can only imagine how this looks, and it's not at all good.  She must seem unhinged, her hair a wild mess, her hospital gown hanging off one shoulder, and Elaine passed out at her feet with a bloodied face.  Alex drops the knife as if it burns to the touch.  

     "Sir," she starts, preparing to launch into a desperate explanation.  The man cuts her off, stepping forward and crushing her into a hug.

    Her arms hover, unable to wrap her mind around what is happening before the man releases her.  Stepping back, Sir clears his throat and smooths his hand over his tie.  "Agent Kingston.  Glad to see you safe."

    "But..."

    Sir waves his hand and flashes a smile.  "Come on, Alex.  I knew you were never a traitor, I just couldn't figure out why Elaine would lie."

    "She's-"

    "Edward Worth's daughter.  I know that now."  Sir pulls a flash drive out of his pocket.  "I was finally reviewing the security footage you got from the Mint when I put it all together."

    Alex feels her shoulders drop as she relaxes for the first time since waking up in this damned room.  Her eyes drift to Elaine's form as she asks, "So what now?"

    The way Sir hesitates fails to put her at ease.  Eventually he speaks, "Miss Worth has too many powerful people on her side for us to keep her prisoner.  We need to make her believe that her plan is working."

    "So...what exactly does that mean for me?"

    There is a stretch of silence as Sir gives her a pointed look. 

     Alex gives a strangled laugh.  "You want me to play traitor?"

    "Yes.   _Well_ , no.  Not in reality.  I just need for everyone to believe that you turned, and to convince them that we have you securely locked away."

    "But?"

    " _But_ ," Sir continues, suddenly sounding weary, and for the first time Alex notices the dark circles under his eyes and the grey streaking through his hair.  "I need you on this mission, Alex." 

     "How can I do that if I'm supposed to be locked up?"

    "You can't, which is why you're going to have to go far away from here."

    Her stomach begins to churn.  "How far?"

    Sir moves past her and reaches under the bed.  He pulls out a small duffle bag, and Alex eyes it warily as he holds it out to her.  "I placed this here just yesterday.  In case...well, in case of this exact situation.  Inside are folders on the mission, some cash that should last you a couple months, a train ticket to Glasgow, and a couple other things I figured you might need.  Edward Worth's mansion sits just outside the city.  It's only a starting point- you can go wherever you want after that as long as it's not Headquarters and it's not your flat.  They'll be watching, I'm sure."

    When Alex shoulders the bag, something about it feels heavier than it should.  Almost as if her entire fate has been shoved and zipped inside.

    "No communicator?"

    Sir shakes his head.  "Too easy to trace.  The only other things are a gun and the flash drive you had on you when I found you in the Vaults."

    "Who's my handler?"

    "No handler.  Right now we can't trust anyone."

    Alex swallows tightly, and that wrenching feeling in her stomach amplifies.  "How can I contact Headquarters?"

    "No contact."  Sir glances away from her, almost as if he dislikes this plan as much as she does.  "You're on your own, Alex."

    The fear that wiggles its way into her heart has nothing to do with her and everything to do with the man who lies just a floor beneath her.  "What about Matt?"

    "Agent Smith hasn't woken up since we brought the both of you here two days ago.  He's severely dehydrated, and he'll need a few more days of rest, but he will be fine.  Still, once he recovers he will stay.  The less he knows, the safer he is."

    Alex presses her lips tightly against all of her arguments and forces herself to believe that Sir is right.  "When do I leave?"

    "Now.  I'll take care of Elaine, you go say goodbye to Agent Smith and then head for the train station.  He's in room 412."  Sir hesitates, as if wanting to add something else.  Instead he finishes with, "I'll see you when you return, Agent Kingston."

    Alex only nods, her words feeling strangled as the reality of what she has to do begins to weigh on her.  Instead of wasting more time, she steps out of the room without looking back and heads for Matt.  A woman striding through the hospital in just a hospital gown and carrying around a suspicious looking bag is bound look strange, so Alex sticks to back corridors and the stairwell.  When she arrives at Matt's floor she passes each room in a flurry, glancing only at the room number.

    _406_.

    _408._

_410._

_412._

    Alex pauses, taking in a deep breath before pushing through the door.  The door shuts behind her and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Matt lying in the bed.  Alex sets the duffle bag down and perches herself on the edge of the hospital bed.  Her hand finds Matt's and she grips his fingers tightly, silently wishing for him to wake up.  Though if he did, she might not ever leave. 

     His chest rises and falls, the heart monitor reads a strong pulse, and the bruising on his pretty face has dulled from the angry purple she saw before.  For all that hangs over her now, Alex feels a small, relieved smile pull at her lips.  Matt is alive.  He is safe.

     Suddenly, it feels as if the stress of the past few weeks fully crashes down upon her.  She never let herself think on it, instead pushing herself through each day with the sole thought of bringing Matt home.  The adrenaline from her earlier fight has worn off, and Alex sits there feeling like a shell of herself.  She is tired, her muscles are weak, and the right side of her chest throbs with pain.  A voice in her head pleads for her to curl up next to Matt and join him in sleep. 

     But she can't.

     Her eyes begin to prickle, the threat of beginning tears.  Something about this moment seems so very final.

     "Goodbye, darling," Alex whispers, and her throat feels too tight to say anything else.  As she stands, she forces herself to believe that it's only a temporary separation.

    With one last glance over her shoulder, Alex shoulders her bag and exits the room.  When the door closes behind her, so does the mental one in her brain, everything Matt locked behind it and not to be opened until her mission is complete.

    Alex looks to either side of her and heads for the stairwell.  Glasgow and Edward Worth are waiting, but first she needs to buy some clothes.

XxX

    Matt doesn't remember much about his time in the Vaults.  After his first- and only- failed escape attempt, one of the guards gave a good beating and threw him in some sort of cell.  The days and nights alike had passed in darkness and time meant nothing.  Then Alex appeared, looking like a vision and nearly scaring him to death because  _what did she think she was doing_?  She abandoned him at the first sign of trouble, facing the danger head-on and alone.  The last thing he remembers is clutching the note she had given him and hearing a new, but familiar female voice addressing Alex.  He must have passed out after that because the next thing he knew he was waking up in a hospital room.

     Agent Price greeted him cheerfully when he finally awoke, a smile on her face that Matt was unable to return.  From the first word that left her mouth, Matt was able to identify the second voice he heard in the Vaults.  The way Elaine tells it, she was barely able to rescue him before Agent Kingston murdered him on the spot.  Now Alex is imprisoned at some undisclosed location for an almost-murder she would have never committed.  

    Gritting his teeth, Matt attempts to calm his anger and pushes into Sir's office.

    Startled by the sudden entrance, Sir stands and looks at Matt with surprise.  "Agent Smith.  I heard you were awake, but I thought you were still-"

    "Where's Alex?"

    Sir's expression smooths to stone, and something about it makes Matt  _furious_.  "Agent Smith..."

    Matt slams his hand on Sir's desk.  "Do  _not_ try to feed me the same bullshit Agent Price gave me.  I don't know who the fuck she is, but she can't be trusted- and Alex!  You  _know_ Alex!  She would nev-"

     "Enough," Sir speaks over Matt, holding up a halting hand.  "Sit.  I'll tell you everything."

     Grudgingly, Matt takes a seat in front of Sir's desk.  The other man moves to close his office door, and as Matt sits in his chair he bites back everything foul itching to jump from his tongue.  Anger boils in his chest, his knee bounces in agitation, and his fingers itch to just punch somebody.  If Sir doesn't start talking, his face just might be in danger.

     Sir briefly closes his eyes, his fingers steepled under his chin.  With a heavy exhale through his nose, he finally speaks, "I don't know how I expected to keep you from finding out.  You're far too stubborn."  He pauses.  "Agent Kingston is safe."

    "But Agent Price-"

    "Doesn't exist."

    The tension Matt has been carrying bleeds away in face of his confusion.  "What?"

    "Agent Price doesn't belong here.  Her real name is Elaine Worth."

    "Worth?  Wait...as in  _Edward_ Worth?"

    "Elaine is his daughter.  And you met her sister at the Mint."

    Matt leans back in his chair, feeling stunned.  "But Worth was one of the targets."

    Sir arches a heavy brow.  "Was he?"

    Matt flashes back to that night in Scotland.   _The Canavar_ had made an elaborate setting, cruising on the inky black water of the Loch Ness.  Alex had been stunning, shimmering in a gold dress and instantly catching the attention of Mr. Worth.  She hung on his arm for the entire evening, and while Matt knew it was nothing more than an act, he had felt positively green.  Worth's eyes never left her, his teeth gleaming in a smile that reminded him of a predator sizing up his unwitting prey.  Now Matt knows that likeness holds more truth than he ever would have guessed.  The entire evening had been nothing more than for Worth to learn about his adversaries.  It had been bait, plain and simple.  Bait that he and Alex took all too easily.  

    Matt's stomach churns as he wonders what else they've missed, and his mind races in attempt to connect the pieces.  Coming up with nothing, he voices, "This doesn't make sense.  The Assembly is after money, and Edward Worth has more money than he can spend.  Why would he be behind it all?"

    Sir scrubs a hand over his face and sighs.  "No idea, but right now he's our only lead."

    "Okay...I understand why Elaine is still here- it would cause bigger problems if we blew her cover, I get it.  What I  _don't_ understand is Alex.  Throwing her in a cell for the sake of saving face isn't going to keep her safe."

     "You're right.  Which is why she isn't in a cell."

    Matt's eyebrows pull down in confusion, and his mouth is half open to push for more information when realization dawns. 

     Alex is still on the mission.

    Immediately, he stands.  "I can leave right now, I just need her location and a new comm-"

    "You're not going," interrupts Sir.  "I need you here."

     Matt grips the back of the chair in front of him and tries to quell the words threatening to lash off his tongue.  Calmly, he speaks, "You know Alex and I work best together."

    "I know."

    "Then let me go!"

    "Even if I wanted you to go, you can't."  Sir pauses, then adds, "I have no idea where she is."

    Instantly, Matt feels his heart drop.  "You sent her without a tracker?"

    "No tracker, no communicator.  With Elaine here, it's safest that way."

    Matt's shoulders drop, and suddenly he feels rather numb.  Not counting the Vaults, it's been weeks since he's seen her.  It feels like a lifetime ago that he was hovering in the threshold to his bedroom, loathe to leave the woman sleeping soundly in his bed.  He would have never left if he had known the fate awaiting him, awaiting  _them_.  And now Alex is god knows where doing who knows what and he might not see her for  _months_.

_Or ever again_ , a voice in his head whispers.

    Feeling a bit dazed, Matt swallows thickly and sinks back into his chair.

    "Agent Kingston can handle herself," Sir speaks finally, and it sounds a bit like he is trying to reassure himself as well.  "There's no reason to worry."

XxX

    A loud knock on Matt's door causes him to jump.  He sits on the floor of his new flat, surrounded by towers of unopened boxes.  Sir thought it best that he relocate, so here he is- a new neighborhood, on temporary leave from MI6, and alone.  Nothing about it feels like the life he had just a month ago.

    Matt glances at the clock.  It's nearly midnight.  Standing, he checks that his gun is still in its holster and moves toward the door.  Another knock raps through just as Matt presses his eye to the peephole.  Relaxing at the sight of his visitor, he drops his hand from his gun and swings open the door.

     "Agent Darvill.  What are you doing here?"

     Expecting some sort of dry snark in return, Matt is surprised when the other man narrows his eyes.

     "You're going to tell me the truth," states Agent Darvill as he pushes past Matt into the flat.  His tone is clipped, and it's so unlike his usual self that Matt closes the door without question.

    "Where's Alex?"

    Instantly, Matt feels his heart lodge itself in his throat.  Of course.  Why else would he be here?

    Agent Darvill pins Matt with a look that dares him to lie.

    Swallowing, Matt admits, "I don't know."

    Agent Darvill's shoulders drop, like all his suspicions have been confirmed and he doesn't like it one bit.  "So she's not being held prisoner?"

    "Of course not."

    "She's still on the Assembly mission, isn't she?  By herself."

    The thought causes panic to rise and chokes the words in Matt's throat.  Lips pressed tightly together, he gives a stiff nod.

    Agent Darvill sits on the sofa next to a pile of boxes and lets out a heavy sigh.  Elbows on his knees and head in his hands, he whispers, "I knew it."

    "Then why did you come here?"

    Matt's words come with more of a bite than he intends, but the stress from it all seems to have wrung out all his patience.  Briefly, he wonders if this is how Alex felt when he went missing.  Different though, he knows.  It was a fact that he was being held by the enemy, but it was also fact that he was alive.  In this situation, Matt knows nothing.  Where is she?  Is she safe?  Is she alive?  The questions spinning in his head are driving him to madness.

    Agent Darvill lifts his head and glares.  "Alex is one of my closest friends- I care about her, too."

    Deflating, Matt gives a nod.  "I know."

    Pushing aside the boxes, Matt slumps into the sofa next to his fellow agent.  Silent stretches, then Agent Darvill speaks, "If anyone can tackle this mission alone, it's Alex.  But Edward Worth is powerful and extremely dangerous.  She needs our help.  We need to find her."

    "How?"

    Reaching into his pocket, Agent Darvill pulls out a flash drive.  "This was mailed to my home address.  No return address, no note, just this.  I tracked the postal stamp...it was sent from Scotland."

    Immediately Matt straightens.  "Worth is in Scotland."

    "Which means Alex is probably there."

    "Do you think it's from her?"

    "Yes...but I think it's for you.  I imagine she was afraid to send it directly to you in case it was intercepted."

    Staring at the little black piece of tech, Matt feels his heart begin to pick up pace.  "What's on it?"

    Agent Darvill shakes his head.  "I broke the encryption, but was stopped by a password."

    "Couldn't you crack it?"

    "Can't.  It's a four digit passcode, but you only get three tries before it wipes itself of all the information." 

     Agent Darvill places the flash drive in the palm of Matt's hand and a small frown pulls at Matt's lips.  "Four digits?  It could be anything."

    "Not really," speaks Agent Darvill as Matt stands and weaves his way through the mass of boxes.  "She left a clue."

    Matt opens a box resting on stray chair, triumphant when he finds his laptop inside.  

    "I thought you said there was no note."

    "It wasn't a note," Agent Darvill corrects as Matt sits back down and starts up his computer.  "It's on the flashdrive."

    Bouncing his leg anxiously, Matt waits for the laptop to fully start then inputs his password.  "Come on," he whispers to the computer as the little blue circle spins and spins, loading his starting applications.  Finally he inserts the flash drive, and the seconds it takes to install the device feels nothing short of agonizing.

    Finally the file appears, named  _untitled1._ Ghosting his fingers over the touchpad, Matt double clicks the file and receives this pop-up message:

 

     _Please input passcode:  _  _  _  __

_Three attempts remain._

_User hint:  I open with a word, written but still heard._

 

Matt frowns and looks at Agent Darvill.  "What does that mean?"

    The man shrugs.  "I thought you would know."

    The cursor blinks, patiently waiting for the passcode to be entered, and somehow Matt feels like it is taunting him, daring him to input the wrong numbers and lose his only potential contact to Alex.  His heart tightens uncomfortably in his chest.  What if she's in trouble?

    His pulse races as his fingers hover timidly over the number keypad.  The passcode only takes digits, but the answer is a word.  T9 code is the obvious way to solve it...but what word? 

    Feeling a little hopeless, he types  _5 6 8 3_.

    The screen flashes, then reads:

 

      _Please input passcode:  _  _  _  __

_Two attempts remain._

_User hint:  I open with a word, written but still heard._

 

Matt swears under his breath.  Too obvious of an answer, he concludes.  Anyone could have guessed that.  Drumming his fingers on his laptop, Matt stares at the hint and thinks.

From beside him, Agent Darvill speaks, "It has to be something only you would know."

    Matt is preparing to respond when suddenly it hits him.  A word, only four letters long, written across a slip of paper and holding so much more weight than the dictionary definition.  The same word that had been returned to him on that same paper, Alex's fingers warm around his as she tucked it in his hand and left.

     _Stay._

    With a slight tremble in his fingers, Matt types  _7 8 2 9._

The pop-up message disappears, the screen turns black, and white code runs up the screen.  Matt turns to Agent Darvill to see him grinning back, and Matt can't help his laugh of disbelief.  It worked.

    Looking back at the screen, the document has loaded, and Matt feels his heart skip a beat at the first two words:

_Hello, darling._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written a fight scene before go easy on me!!!! T_T


	9. and then i see you and i know you all over again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The riddles, the robberies, it's all been a smoke screen to keep he and Alex busy, unsuspecting, and out of the way. It's like a magic trick, the magician distracting the audience while the workings of the trick go unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter, but the last chapter is over 9k so hopefully that will make up for it????? We're almost there!
> 
> Chapter title from I Know You All Over Again by Trixie Mattel

    

 

_Hello, darling._

_There is so much I wish to tell you, but I don't have the time or the words to say everything here, so it will have to wait.  Instead, I'll keep it to this:  I miss you._

_Everything I've included in this document is the information I gathered from hacking one of the Assembly's computers in the Vaults.  Oh, darling.  How much there is that we did not know- they've played us so well.  That being said, I wanted this information to be in trusted hands should anything happen._

_Yours,_

_xx_

It's a short message, one Matt has memorized by heart.  Alex's words run through his mind on repeat, something about her voice in his head quelling his nerves.  His leg bounces anxiously as he sits on a bench and stares at the painting hanging on the wall before him. 

     Is it real? 

     Is it a fake? 

     It could have glaringly obvious mistakes and Matt would never be able to tell.  His eyes roam over the painting; the thick brush strokes, the yellow popping out against dark blue, the heavy layers of paint.  The plaque reads  _Starry Night Over the Rhône, Vincent Van Gogh, 1888, Oil on Canvas._ One of Van Gogh's most famous pieces.

     And it might be a fake. 

     At the thought, Matt's stomach churns.  _This_ is what the Assembly has been after the entire time.  And not just this painting, two other priceless Van Gogh works as well.  The riddles, the robberies, it's all been a smoke screen to keep he and Alex busy, unsuspecting, and out of the way.  It's like a magic trick, the magician distracting the audience while the workings of the trick go unnoticed.

     The night the Gherkin was robbed, the National Gallery's security alarms were set off.  The night of the Bank, an alert came through from the Kröller-Müller Museum in the Netherlands.  And finally, the night of the Mint, the Musée d'Orsay in Paris reported a complete security footage outage.  If the local police authorities ever became suspicious, the problem would have landed in the lap of MI6, but with Alex and Matt distracted with something that seemed more urgent, the case would have never been opened.  For all Matt knows, the folders piling up on his desk in headquarters may even contain that exact information- he's been too overwhelmed with everything else, which is exactly what the Assembly wanted.   

     Nausea rolls inside of Matt's stomach.  He feels like a puppet.  A  _stupid_ puppet.

     When he was first reading all the information Alex sent him, he couldn't understand why Edward Worth assembled a team to replicate and steal works by Van Gogh.  Matt trailed Worth for months, and he knows that Worth's collection centers around artists from the Baroque era- Caravaggio, Rubens, Rembrandt.  For Worth, it is no longer about the money, but about the art.  It doesn't make sense that he would go through so much trouble for works of art he has no interest in.  Except, as Matt continued to read Alex's document, Worth's motive became clear.

    The stolen paintings aren't for Worth, but rather payment for a seller, a seller who claims to be in possession of Vermeer's  _The Concert_.  The most valuable piece of lost art on Earth.

     Either Worth is extremely gullible, blinded by his own want, or he has good reason to believe that the seller is legitimate.  Regardless, here Matt is now, in Paris, sitting in front of Van Gogh's  _Starry Night Over the Rhône_ and knowing in his heart of hearts that it's a fake.  Right now, the paintings are not lost, just stolen.  But the moment they are exchanged out of Worth's possession, they could be lost to the world forever. 

     Alex didn't say much else in her letter, and she certainly didn't reveal her location.  Still, Matt knows how she thinks, and he is almost certain that she is following the Assembly's trail and going to see the paintings for herself.  So here he sits, with no other plan than to wait and hope.  Today is only his first day in the museum, but doubt still manages to creep in with every passing second.  Has she already been here?  Is she planning on visiting at all?

     His first move upon arriving to the museum was to speak with the security guard on duty and ask if he had seen a woman with a stunning about of blonde curls.  The guard was loathe to answer until Matt spun a story of reuniting with his lost love- sappy, a bit over the top, yet not entirely untrue. 

     It had been a struggle to get his tale across, the man only understanding limited English, but in the end the guard had softened a bit, then answered simply, "No, monsieur."  While it gives Matt hope that Alex has not yet been here, he worries that she might skip it entirely.

     Matt pulls his gaze from the painting to glance at the entrance for the hundredth time.  All he can do now is wait.

XxX

    It's a cloudy morning in Paris.  Grey, gloomy, and a bit cooler than one would expect for late spring.  Matt trudges up the sidewalk to the museum and thinks the weather is doing a remarkable job of reflecting his mood.  It's been a week since he came to Paris, and no sign of Alex.  Has he missed her?  Is she even going to show?  How long does he sit in this museum, day in and day out, until he gives up?  And what is better?  Sitting here with hope lodged in his chest only for it to be crushed at the end of every day?  Or returning home to a pile of boxes and twiddling his thumbs because he's _not_ _doing anything_ to help her?

     Head down and feeling more than a little defeated, Matt enters the museum.  For the past week he has arrived before opening, anxiously waiting for the doors to unlock so he can begin his day-long wait.  Today he is nearly an hour behind, all the weight of his doubt dragging him down.  Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Matt walks across the shiny marble floor on auto-pilot, letting his feet take him where he needs to go.

    He lifts his head as he enters the Van Gogh exhibit, glaring weakly at the faux  _Starry Night Over the Rhône._  After this, Matt thinks he would be just fine if he never had to step foot into another art museum ever again. Sitting on his regular bench, he lets out a heavy sigh and resigns himself to another eight hours of disappointment.

    Then, a voice startles him from his brooding, "Monsieur!"

    Matt snaps his head in the direction of the voice and finds the security guard from before rushing toward him.

    "Ta femme!"  Exclaims the guard as he points emphatically toward the exit.

    Matt leaps to his feet as the man reaches him, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries to stamp down his rising hope.

    "Avec les bouncles!" The guard continues as he mimes something like a cloud around his head.   _Curls._

     "Elle vient de partir!"

    "She left?"  Matt asks, suddenly wishing he had brushed up more on his French.

    "Oui oui!"  Again the guard points to the door, and Matt feels a building anticipation shaking in his chest.

    Without another thought he is running for the exit, calling a belated, "Merci!" to the guard over his shoulder as he goes.  Matt bursts through the door and onto the sidewalk, eyes searching frantically for that mane of curls.

     Strangers push past him, cars rush along the narrow street, and just beyond the River Seine flows beautifully through the city.  Matt takes it all in, forcing himself to slow down as he scans his surroundings for any sign of Alex.  Being too eager to properly pay attention is not going to be what destroys this slim window of opportunity.

     An agitated woman in a white hat grumbles something in French at him as she passes.  A red car zips by with music thumping through its windows.  At the corner, a man is crouched with a cardboard sign and a tin can. 

     No Alex.

     Feeling his heart begin to sink, Matt turns to observe the upper portion of the street.  More Parisians displeased with his current position in the middle of the walkway.  A man shouting ticket prices for cruising tours of the Seine.  A line of black cabs waiting for-

     "Alex!"

     At the sight of her, his heart nearly bursts from his chest, and his feet stumble in his haste to reach her.  She's too far, _too far_ , and his call never reaches her ears.  

     Her back is too him but he knows it's her- those curls, that brown satchel thrown over her shower, her favorite striped shirt.  She ducks into the backseat of a cab, and Matt calls her name again just as the car door closes.  The cab pulls out from the parking space and Matt swears, pushing himself to just go  _faster._   But by the time he reaches the line of black cars, the one he needs is too far out of reach.

    Matt's feet slow to a stop, his chest heaves, and his heart sinks with the heavy weight of disappointment.

    "Need a ride, monsieur?"

    Matt whirls at the voice, finding a cabbie looking at him expectantly through the open window.  Without a second thought, Matt jumps into the back of the cab and points to the car getting ever further away.  "Follow that car!"

    Hesitant, the driver eyes Matt suspiciously.  Matt swears under his breath, frustrated as he pulls out his wallet and thrusts a wad of cash into the man's hand.  "Just go!"

    Any reservations the driver may have had about stalking an unknown car dissipates in the face of money.  The cabbie slams on the gas, pulling out of the parking lot and zipping after the other cab.  Matt is thrown against the back of the seat, then slams hard into the door as the car takes a sharp left.  An oncoming car blares its horn as it slams on its brakes, and Matt laughs hysterically as the driver speeds along like he does this every day.  Perhaps he does.

    Matt leans forward when he can, eyes on the other car, but it only takes a few minutes of being in Parisian traffic before he loses sight of the cab entirely.  The black car blends in with all the others, and the hope that had resurfaced seems to fizzle out once more.  

    The driver glances at Matt, offering a not-so-reassuring, "Not to worry, monsieur.  We will catch up."

    Still, the deeper they travel into Paris, the less hopeful Matt becomes.  The city passes in a blur of buildings and colors and people, Matt noticing none of it until the driver finally slows his pace.  Now out of the city center, the cab journeys down a back street away from tourists and bright lights.  Everything seems quieter here, and they finally stop in front of a narrow, rundown building proclaiming, _H_ _ó_ _tel Monte Carlo_. 

    With a smug grin on his face, the cabbie turns to Matt and gestures in front of him.  Pulling his gaze from the building, Matt feels his heart leap as he sees an identical black cab flick on its light and pull back into the street.  Alex is here.

    Thanking the driver, Matt steps out onto the street.  The smell of the Chinese restaurant next door wafts through the air, thankfully overpowering the stench of the overly full garbage container right outside the hotel doors.  Entering the building, Matt is greeted with dim lighting and a front desk assistant that seems to be dozing at her post.  Approaching her, Matt clears his throat to announce his presence.

    Eyes flying open, the girl jumps off her seat and greets, "Welcome to Hótel Monte Carlo."

    "So sorry," Matt starts, patting at his pockets.  "I seem to have lost my key."

    "Reservation name?"

    "Robinson," he supplies, nervously hoping that Alex kept her alias.

    After a few clicks on her computer, the girl eyes him warily and asks, "Room 303?  Alexandra?"

    "My wife."  Matt gives a grin.  "It's our anniversary."

    Seemingly satisfied by the lie, the girl produces a new key card, Matt breathing a bit easier once it is tucked in his hand.  Quickly, he hops into the elevator, his heart pounding from knowing Alex is in this very building.  The elevator smells like a wet dog, and the yellow bulb hanging from the top casts the walls in a sick glow.  From what he's seen of the hotel, Alex seems to be extra aware of not drawing attention to herself.  Which is for the best, Matt concludes as the elevator dings and opens to the third floor.

    The narrow corridor is carpeted in a dusty green that muffles his footsteps as he navigates to room 303.  Save for the distant sound of canned laughter on a guest's television, the third floor is silent.  Being in such a bustling city, it unnerves him.

    Shrugging off the feeling of anxiousness, Matt pockets his key and raises his hand to knock, not wanting to startle her by just barging in.  Before he gets the chance, there is an audible click from right behind his head, a sound he instantly recognizes as the disengagement of a gun's safety lock.  The blood in his veins feels as if it freezes, the white noise of surprise and panic now rushing to his ears.  Refraining from making any sudden movements, Matt swallows thickly and raises his hands.

    "I didn't realize Worth's men had such manners to knock first."

    Instantly, relief washes over him at the voice.

    "Alex?"

    Silence stretches, and Matt can practically hear her mind trying to adjust to the surprise of him being here.  Slowly, Matt turns to face her.  Pure shock is etched across Alex's face, her green eyes wide and her lips parted.  She looks beautiful, and Matt feels his heart clench because it has been far too long since he's seen her.

    Alex holsters her gun, never taking her eyes from him and seeming to hesitate about stepping closer.  Suddenly the weeks they have been apart seem to stretch between them, making her seem further away than just two steps.  The last time he properly saw her, she was sleeping soundly in his bed.  Then everything went to shit.  They have both been through so much in such a short amount of time, and Matt can hear the question hanging in the air:  who are they now?  

    That moment of uncertainty doesn't last, Matt finding his arms full of Alex in the next second.  He's not sure who moved first, but her fingers are clenched in his shirt, his hands are cupping her face, and when their lips meet it feels like nothing around him is real except for her.  The kiss is hard and desperate, Matt's hands moving to pull Alex flush against him, to feel her warmth and her curves, and affirm that _yes,_ she is here and she is safe.

    They break for air, their foreheads resting together as Alex loops her arms around his neck.  For a moment they breathe in silence, savoring the moment of finally being reunited.  Matt runs his hands up and down her sides and whispers, "I missed you." 

    Pulling away, a smile spreads across Alex's face as she says, "That doesn't even begin to cover it, darling."

    A lump forms in Matt's throat as he watches her, his hand coming up to brush across her cheek before sweeping a curl behind her ear.  Alex hums happily, her eyes closing as she leans into his touch, and suddenly his heart feels so entirely full.

    The emotion swells in his chest, and his next words are pushed out in a whisper.  

    "I love you."

    Alex's eyes fly open, a teasing mischief lying there.  

    "Because you chasing me down in France didn't already tell me?"

    "Nope," says Matt, lightly bopping her on the nose and delighting in how it crinkles when she laughs in response.

    Her green eyes turn soft, warm, and Alex reaches up to brush aside the fringe of his hair as she says, "I love you, too."

    Matt tries to force a smirk, his words falling flat as he tries to tease, "Because you taking a bullet to keep me safe didn't already tell me?"

    The smile drops from Alex's face as she turns serious.  "No, I would do that for any of my agents."

    Matt folds her back into his arms, burying his face by her curls and closing his eyes tight as he tries not to think about how bad it could have turned out.  Alex clings to him, as if having the same thoughts.  

    Her fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, and she presses her body closer as she whispers, "But if you take me inside, I'll show you just how much I love you, darling."

    Alex's breath is warm at his ear, her curves are flush against him, and the images her words produce has him immediately fishing for the key card in his pocket.  Matt wastes no time taking her by the hand and pulling her into the room, Alex's laugh following behind them.

    When the door closes, thoughts of their mission are forgotten for the night.  No scary crime lord and his two insane daughters.  No stolen wealth, missing paintings, or replicated treasures hanging falsely from museum walls.  

    Just Matt and Alex, together at last.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!


	10. you gotta give the other fellow hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're giving themselves a day to prepare, and when night falls again is when the real fun will begin. Still, Alex feels on edge. This is it. Months of chasing the Assembly, months of being in the dark, months of always being one step behind, and now the time has come for them to either succeed or fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!! At the end!!!! Thank you, THANK YOU, to everyone who has read and commented! I spent three stupid years on this fic, but all of your kind words have really made it worth it <333
> 
> Chapter title from Live and Let Die by Paul McCartney & Wings

 

 

     Alex wakes to the incessant beeping of her mobile, the screen lit up and casting the room in a soft blue glow.  The sun hasn't even risen yet.  Grumbling under her breath, she reaches over and fumbles with it until she can swipe away the notification.  Rolling back into place with her mobile, Alex squints at the too-bright light and tries to get her brain to wake up as she reads the screen.

    "Who is it?"

    Matt's voice is low and coarse from next to her ear, his face buried into her curls and his arm slung over her waist.  He pulls her nearer, and Alex takes a second to close her eyes and enjoy the moment of waking up next to him.  Matt presses a kiss to her jaw and she hums happily, trying to forget for just a second that she's in Paris piecing together answers for a mission.

    Sighing, Alex opens her eyes to the map on her screen.  "It's Worth."

    Instantly Matt props himself on his elbow, looking at her with wide eyes.  "What?"

    "No, I mean- I put a tracker on his car, and it alerts me every time he's moving."

    Matt relaxes.  "Oh.  Where is he?  Scotland?"

    Alex squints at the screen.  "No, it looks to be London.  He left Scotland four days ago."

    "Why?"

    "Dunno, but it gave me the opportunity to go look at all four of the replicated paintings.  I couldn't tell any difference, though."

    Matt sits up, the sheet falling to his waist as he frowns at her in confusion.  "I thought there were only three."

    "Four," Alex corrects.  "I did some more digging, and I believe they took another piece that was being held in a museum in Poland.  Their authorities were contacted the same night the Assembly attacked the Stock Exchange."

    "Which painting?"

    " _Farmhouse Among Trees_.  It was the only Van Gogh there."

    Matt lays back, staring at the ceiling as he sighs.  "So what now?"

    "Well, I have a plan," Alex says as she sits up and switches on the beside lamp.  "When you were in the Vaults, the Assembly sent a video demanding that I let them be until the first of June, and in return they would keep you safe."

    Intrigued, Matt sits up again, his brow scrunched as he asks, "Why the first of June?"

    "I didn't know, at least not until I found out that all of this was for the paintings."  Alex types a search into her phone and shows Matt the results.

    Squinting without his glasses, Matt reads, " _Van Gogh and Britain:  Exhibition at Tate Britain.  June 1- August 1.  Van Gogh and Britain_ _presents the largest collection of Van Gogh's paintings in the UK for nearly a decade.  Some of his most famous works will be brought together from around the world.._." 

    Matt stops, looking at Alex.  "I'm guessing our four stolen paintings are expected to make an appearance?"

    Alex nods.  "And I found out that the paintings are inspected for damage every time they are removed or placed into an exhibit, meaning-"

    "Meaning that they're bound to notice the fakes," Matt finishes as understanding dawns.

    "But that's not our only problem.  They're going to be moving the paintings two weeks before the exhibition opens, for the inspections and set up.  Worth is going to want to do his trade with the Vermeer owner _before_ the world finds out that four of its most treasured works of art are missing.  And if we don't find the paintings before they're traded, I doubt we ever will."

    Glancing down at Alex's phone for the date, Matt sounds disheartened as he says, "That only gives us two weeks."

    "Less than.  The paintings will be moved in two weeks, but the trade could happen any day."

    Matt scrubs a hand over his face.  "So what's your plan?"

    "When I was in the Vaults, I saw security footage of a safe.  At first I thought it held all the wealth that had been stolen, but now I think it must be home to the paintings."

    "So we go back to the Vaults?"

    Alex shakes her head.  "This past week I've been trailing Worth, and he had an identical safe delivered to his home."

    "Wait," Matt says, holding up a hand.  "Are you suggesting that we break into the Worth mansion?"

    "Got any better ideas?"

    Matt watches her, eyes wide, and Alex can tell his brain is scrambling to come up with something, _anything_ less mad.  Finally, he lets out a hysteric laugh, looking at her as if she's equal parts insane and brilliant.  

    "Guess we're breaking into Edward Worth's mansion."

XxX 

    The train ride back to London is quiet and uneventful.  Both feeling exhausted, Matt and Alex lean on each other and doze as the French countryside passes them in a blur.  With the exception of the night before, it's the best sleep Alex has had in weeks, her head tucked by Matt's shoulder and their fingers intertwined.  He clings to her as much as she does him, both desperate for the other's touch after having been separated for so long.  When they finally disembark, Alex feels sad to be leaving their tiny bubble of solitude, but the clock is ticking.

    Night is falling by the time they arrive to Alex's flat.  They stand across the street, looking at the unit from afar, and Alex gives a sigh.  What she wouldn't give to be back in the comfort of her own home.

    "We can't go up," says Matt.  "You know Worth's men are watching."

    Alex nods, knowing he is right.  "Not here for the flat, though."

    Matt quirks a brow at her and Alex grins, holding up keys and giving them a jingle.

    Eyes lighting up, Matt asks, "We're taking the car?"

    "Well the next train to Glasgow doesn't leave until morning, and then it's a seven hour ride.  I'm sure we can get there faster than that."

    The brilliant orange of the vintage car is hidden by a tarp, and they work quickly to uncover it.  Alex notes the glee on Matt's face and smirks as she dangles the keys in front of him, "How fast can you drive, darling?"

    Matt looks at her excitedly, "Really?"

    When Alex nods, he snatches the keys with a grin and pulls her close to give a swift, hard kiss.

    "Just don't wreck it," Alex teases as she slips into the passenger's side, enjoying the outrage that breaks across his face.

    "Kingston, I would never!"

    They fly down the M6 as fast as the car will allow, zipping through cars until it becomes late enough that it seems they are the only ones on the road.  Alex has her hand tucked into the crook of Matt's elbow as he drives, humming softly to the quiet tune on the radio and looking out into the dark night of rural England.

    It's a little after three in the morning when they pass into Scotland, Alex's anxiety about the mission seeming to increase they closer they get to their target.

    Matt seems to be feeling the same, glancing at her as he asks, "So say we find the vault.  How do we get it open?"

    Leaning forward in her seat, Alex grabs the black duffle bag on the floorboard and heaves it into her lap.  "Sir gave me this before I left," she says as she unzips the bag.  Rummaging through the folders and clothes, she pulls out a small square device.

    "What is it?"

    The device is in two magnetic pieces, Alex pulling to separate them.  Holding them both up, she says, "It's to crack the vault.  One part goes on the the vault, the other on the dial.  When it turns on, it sends strong enough vibrations to break the lock."

    Looking impressed, Matt says, "Well that solves one problem."

    "Our bigger issue is going to be getting into the mansion without being caught."

    Glancing over, Matt reaches for her hand and gives a reassuring squeeze, though she doesn't know if it's more comforting for her or for him.  "It'll be a piece of cake."

    Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Alex focuses on the road ahead of them and tries to convince herself just that.

XxX

    It's still dark when they arrive in Glasgow, and Matt parks the car a good walking distance away from the mansion.  They're miles out from the city center, the road dark and desolate, surrounded by thick trees and night noises.

    They cover the car with the tarp and begin their walk, Alex's hand in Matt's and her heart feeling like it's going to pound out of her chest.

    "Don't worry," Matt reassures.  "We're just going to scout it out."

    Alex nods, but still doesn't feel much better.  For now the plan is to watch the mansion, find any muscle Worth has hired to guard his property, and figure out the best entrances and exits.  They're giving themselves a day to prepare, and when night falls again is when the real fun will begin.  Still, Alex feels on edge.  This is it.  Months of chasing the Assembly, months of being in the dark to Worth's plan, months of always being one step behind, and now the time has come for them to either succeed or fail.

    "Where's Worth?"  Matt asks, jolting Alex from her thoughts.

    Fishing out her phone, she opens the tracker.  "Still London."

    "Good," Matt says with relief, and Alex nods in agreement.  If Worth begins his journey home before they can complete their mission, their timeline will have to be pushed forward, giving them little to no time to prepare.

    Up ahead, Alex points out the opening in the trees for the long, paved path to the Worth estate.  "That's the driveway.  At the end is a wrought iron gate and a watchman.  I've been using the trees as cover."

    "Let's go, then," says Matt as he tugs her off the side of the road and into the heavy greenery of the surrounding forest.

    They tromp as quietly as possible through the brush until they find the iron fencing separating them from the clean grounds of Worth's property.

    Looking through binoculars, Matt lets out a low whistle at the mansion.  "Definitely not the same house Worth had when I trailed him years ago.  This thing has a fucking _turret_."   

    Alex snorts.  "Focus, darling.  What else do you see?"

    Pulling out a pen, she hovers for a moment as Matt is silent while he observes.

    "One man at the main entrance, another at the east door by the gardens.  We need to move for me to see more."

    Alex nods, quickly jotting down the location of the two guards before they begin their trek around the fence.

    They do this for a better part of an hour, walking the outskirts of the grounds while Matt sights what he sees and Alex writes down every detail.  The sun rises, giving them better visibility, and they do it all again.  

    "So," Matt says as they finish a fourth rotation around the house.  "Five men stationed on the outside, all in front of clear entrances."

    "Six if you include the gatekeeper."

    Sighing, Matt looks out across the grounds.  "Getting in is going to be more difficult than I thought.  The land is so open that it won't take much for us to be spotted."

    "It'll help that it will be dark.  Still, we need to find the right angle."

    Matt stares across at the mansion, brow furrowed as Alex flips through her notes.

    Eyes flying over her scribbles about the north entrance, she suggests, "What about the greenhouse?"

    "At the back?"

    She nods.  "We can use the greenhouse as cover, and there's a cellar door just a few steps away."

    Matt hums in thought.  "That could work, the cellar would be much safer to break into than walking directly into the main floor of the house.  But what if the cellar isn't attached?"

    "It has to be," Alex says as she scans her notes again.  "The doors are right against the north wall.  It most likely opens into the basement."

    "And the guard?"

    "We can sneak from the greenhouse to the cellar during the rotation."

    "That only gives us a two minute window."

    Alex throws him a grin that is much more confident than she feels.  "Come on, darling, where's your sense of adventure?"

    Matt huffs out a laugh, the softness in his eyes causing her heart to do a little flutter.  "Guess we have our plan."

XxX

    They grab a quick bite to eat before paying for a small room at a nearby inn, knowing that empty stomachs and exhaustion do not mix well with missions that require the upmost concentration.  Alex doesn't get much rest, but she feels better than before when she wakes.

    "Still feeling nervous?"  Matt asks as he zips their duffle bag closed, everything they need tucked safely inside.

    Finishing lacing her boots, Alex looks up at Matt with a sigh.  He's looking at her with those wide puppy eyes, his brow scrunched a little in concern.

    "No more than I should be, I suppose.  It's just...I dunno," she waves her hand, as if erasing the thought.  "Nothing.  It's silly." 

    Frowning, Matt moves to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his.  "Tell me."

    "I can't really place it, but something doesn't feel right." 

    Taking her seriously, Matt sits next to her on the bed.  "What do you mean?"

    "Like...like we've missed something."

    Something akin to dread has settled in her stomach, heavy and unsettling.  It makes her question their every decision until she isn't sure what is actually possible and what isn't, what will keep them safe and what won't, and if they can actually be successful in this mission or...not.

    "Okay," says Matt as he places his hand on her thigh in attempt to soothe her anxiety.  "Let's go over it again.  Is Worth still in London?"

    For what feels like the hundredth time that day, Alex takes out her mobile and swipes open the tracker.  The stationary dot seems to quell her worries just a bit as she affirms, "Yes."

    Matt nods.  "He's seven hours away from us.  We break into the mansion, find the vault, get the paintings, and get the hell out of there all before Worth returns."

    "And then what?  We return the paintings for him to do it all over again?"

    "Well I doubt this Vermeer owner would do business with him again.  But besides, Worth had his men break into several buildings that breach national security and took from them all.  Add in the stolen paintings and this is easily his biggest crime yet, perhaps he will finally be tried in court."

    Alex snorts, thinking about Worth's past and everything he has already escaped punishment for.  She shakes her head and sighs.  "Maybe."

    "Besides," continues Matt.  "Our mission isn't to put Worth in prison.  It was to stop the break-ins- which we did, in a way- and now to get back those paintings before they're lost forever."

    Worrying her bottom lip, Alex agrees,  "You're right.  Would be nice to see him behind bars, though." 

    Matt nods, taking her hand and squeezing in reassurance.  "Maybe we will."

    Still, the dread still seems to linger, a gut-churning feeling Alex tries to ignore as she says,  "Let's get this over with."

    They arrive outside the mansion during the dead of night, parking and covering the car just as they did earlier in the day.  This late, everything is silent and their every move feels more conspicuous than normal.  Twigs snap loudly as they move through the forest to the northern portion of the fence, the leaves rustling noisily, and even their breathing seems unnaturally loud.  Still, having the cover of darkness far outweighs the rest.

    Spotting their targeted entrance, Matt and Alex angle themselves in line with the greenhouse, out of sight of the guard.  Matt gently rests the duffle bag on the ground and fishes out a small hacksaw.  Eyes on the towering iron bars of the fence, all sharpened to a point, Alex hopes that the saw will be enough.

    Matt holds the blade to one of the bars and looks up at Alex as if to ask, _Ready?_

She nods, but is unprepared for the unpleasant noise the saw makes against the iron as Matt begins the task.  As with everything else, it seems too much in the quiet night, and Alex swears under her breath.  Looking out toward the house, she watches for any sign of movement or alarm, hoping that the noise fails to carry the distance.

    The wait is agonizing, but finally Matt has two of the bars removed, creating just enough of a gap for he and Alex to squeeze through.  Alex goes first, stepping from the brush created by the trees, over the broken iron, and onto the neat landscaping of Worth's property.  It's a single step, but it feels like more.  They've crossed into a powerful crime lord's territory, and there is no going back.

    Matt steps over and looks at his watch, the dim light reflecting on his face.  "The rotation is in two minutes."

    "Best get going, then."

    He grins at her and cocks his head in the direction of the greenhouse,  "Bet I can beat you."

    "Not a chance, Agent Smith."

    And then they're gone, flying across the grass with only the night to cover them.  It's exhilarating, a fresh reminder of all the reasons Alex went into espionage.  The danger, the risks, the meticulous planning that all boils down to the execution.  Her curls fly behind her, her heart races, and the blood rushing through her veins makes her feel alive.  A grin is spread wide across Alex's face, her worries temporarily suspended, and when she glances at Matt running beside her, his matching grin tells her he is feeling the same.

    They run in sync, reaching the cover of the greenhouse concurrently.  Pressing themselves flat against the back panes of the dark greenhouse, Matt and Alex focus on steadying their breathing and listen for any signs of having been caught.

    A few seconds pass and Matt grins smugly at Alex as they relax, mouthing,  _I won_.

    Glaring playfully, Alex shakes her head and points to herself.

    Matt's shoulders shake as he laughs silently, shaking his head in denial as he glances at his watch again.  Face turning serious, he holds up his index finger.  

    One minute.

    Alex takes a deep, steadying breath, trying in vain to calm the jitters shaking through her body.  The seconds pass painfully slow, and she strains to hear any sign of movement.  Matt keeps his eyes on the watch, looking up and giving her a nod when it comes time.

    Alex stares impatiently at the east corner of the mansion, relieved when she sees a figure move around it and out of sight, the guard who had just been standing only a stone's throw away rotating to his next post.  They now have less than two minutes until the replacement arrives.

    Turning, Alex finds Matt already on the move and quickly follows him to the cellar doors.

    Fingers wrapping around the padlock chaining the doors together, Matt tugs experimentally and swears when it refuses to give.  "It's locked," he whispers.

    Glancing down to the west corner of the house, where the next guard will be rounding shortly, Alex asks, "Will the saw work?"

    "Not on the chains."

    "On the lock?"

    "Maybe," Matt says as he digs out the hacksaw again.

    Glancing at her own watch, Alex bites her lip and shakes her head.  "We'll never cut through it in time."

    Matt looks up at her, face grim, and there is a beat of silence as they stare at one another, their minds racing to just think of _something_.

    "Okay," Alex says, glancing down at the end of the house again.  "We need to move back behind the greenhouse."

    Matt nods, saw in hand as he shoulders the bag and they hurry back to their hiding post.  Like clockwork, the replacement guard appears at the western corner, strolling leisurely to his next location.  Alex's heart races as she watches the figure move closer, her fingers slowly withdrawing her gun.

    Matt's fingers clamp around her arm, and when she glances at him, he's watching her with wide, fearful eyes.  Placing a comforting hand over his fingers, Alex mouths, _Trust me_.

    His jaw clenches, worry still lying in his eyes as he releases her arm with a nod.  Letting out a steady breath, Alex refocuses on the guard as he nears.  The man passes the greenhouse, and she slips silently out of hiding, sticking to the greenhouse wall as she nears him.  The guard's back is to her as he approaches his post at the northern door, and Alex knows that this isn't going to be about stealth, but speed.

    With that in mind, she hardens herself and leaps into a sprint.  Her boots clack noisily on the brick path surrounding the mansion, instantly alerting her target.  The guard spins, hand reaching for his own gun, but it is too late.  Their eyes meet for only a second before the butt of her gun collides to the man's temple in one swift, hard whack.

    There is an audible _thunk_  as the guard's body drops to the ground, and Matt comes out of hiding with a whispered, "Holy _shit_."

    Alex turns to him, holstering her gun and enjoying the grin of disbelief on Matt's face.

    "Is he dead?"

    "No, just unconscious.  He should stay like that for a while."

    With a laugh of astonishment, Matt hauls her close and presses his lips to hers in a hard kiss.

    Alex laughs lightly as they separate, her fingers gripping the lapels of his jacket.  "Careful, darling, or we'll never make it to the vault."

    Hands roaming around to squeeze her arse, Matt watches her with hooded eyes and rumbles, "That wouldn't be the worst thing ever." 

    "Actually, I think it would."

    Sighing, Matt nods and takes a step back, glancing down at the body lying by their feet.  "What do we do with him, then?  If they find him like this during the next rotation, we'll have a lot more to deal with."

    "Put him in the cellar?"

    "If we can get it open."

    Alex nods, and they move back to the cellar doors, Matt crouching down to begin his work.  It takes longer than the fence, the lock surprisingly difficult to saw through.  Alex waits with bated breath, relief washing over her when there's a metallic sounding _snap_.

    Matt places the chain and lock in their bag, and together they slowly open the cellar doors, both wincing at the creaking hinges.  The doors lead to darkness, and Matt glances at her hesitantly.  Alex gives a shrug.  It's the best option they have.

    Together they drag the unconscious guard down a few steps into the cellar, closing the doors behind them and immersing themselves in complete darkness.  In one aspect, it's incredibly relieving.  They made it through the fence, across the grounds, and past the guards.  But still, with everything ahead of them now unknown, it's enough to set Alex on edge.    

    After a moment of listening for any sign of movement, Matt fishes out his mobile and uses it to light the space in a dim glow.

    "A wine cellar," Alex whispers, looking around at the rows and rows of bottles.

    "And a way in," Matt notes as he points to a large wooden door at the end of the aisle.

    "Good," Alex whispers in relief, breathing a bit easier knowing that they haven't run into a dead end.

    They approach the door quietly, Matt switching off the light of his mobile as Alex presses her ear to the cold wood of the door.

    "Anything?"

    Alex shakes her head, one hand moving to her gun as she wraps her other around the circular handle and slowly opens the door.

    The room beyond is just as dark and silent, Matt turning the light back on to shine in front of them.  The floor is gleaming white marble, the walls covered in full bookshelves, and the center of the room is decorated with a large round table, a poker set arranged in the middle.

    There are no windows, and Matt notes, "This must be the basement like you thought."

    Alex nods and points to the a two staircases at the opposite end of the room.  "One set goes down, which means there's at least one more floor beneath us."

    "And three above us.  That's a lot of ground to cover."  Matt hesitates.  "Should we split up?"

    That churning feeling in her gut returns as she grudgingly acknowledges, "It would be faster."

    Matt nods, but Alex can tell he likes the idea only about as much as she does.  "Just be safe."

    "You, too, darling."

    After agreeing to call one another should either find anything, they go their separate ways, Alex slowly winding her way up to the first floor.  Though it remains dark, moonlight spills through the windows and provides enough guiding light for her to see.  She enters the kitchen first, a vast, open area that would be a terrible spot to hide a vault.  Not spending much time there, she works her way into the adjacent living space, trying not to get distracted by the luxury that surrounds her- plush seating, gorgeous wooden floors, thick, expensive rugs, and of course a chandelier hanging delicately from the impossibly tall ceiling.

    Shaking herself, Alex runs her hands over the walls and bookcases, not entirely sure what she's looking for but hoping for something.  Eventually she moves on, working her way to the second floor and checking her mobile for any message from Matt.  Heart dropping when she sees nothing, she pockets her mobile and begins to move down the long corridor.

    The mansion is completely silent, and with Worth in London, she begins to wonder if there is a single soul inside the house, excluding herself and Matt.  The rooms on this floor are all open, Alex working her way silently through them.  A second parlor, an extravagant library, a music room, all decorated with the finest of paintings.  As Alex searches the rooms, she carefully inspects each work of art, knowing they must be stolen originals.  Still, none of them are the Van Gogh's she's searching for, so she forces herself to move on.

    Just before the stairs leading to the third floor is a closed door Alex almost misses.  She frowns at it, wondering why this one would be the only one closed off.  Glancing at the gap under the door, she confirms it is dark on the other side and presses her ear to the door to listen.  When all she can hear is the pounding of her own heart, Alex tries the doorknob.  It doesn't budge, and she feels a simultaneous rush of disappointment and excitement- disappointment because she's going to have to use precious time to pick it, and excitement because why would Worth lock this door unless he has something to hide?  

    With a quick glance down the corridor behind her, Alex drops to her knees and pulls out a thin, silver pick from the messy updo of her hair.  The seconds it takes her drag like minutes, Alex whispering _come on_ just before it gives that satisfying _click_ of success.

    She stands as the door opens, staring hesitantly into the pitch black room.  Something within it seems cold and unsettling, like some sort of presence watching her every move, waiting patiently for its moment to strike.  The dread settles heavily in the pit of her stomach, and when Alex steps into the room she finds herself instantly regretting ignoring her instincts.

    The door slams shut behind her, a light is turned on, temporarily blinding her, and as she reaches for her gun, a female voice speaks from behind her, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

    There's the feeling of cold metal pressed harshly to the middle of her back, and Alex slowly raises her hands in surrender.  Still, it's the not the voice she cares about, or even the gun being held to her skin.  No, her entire focus is on the man sitting behind the desk just steps in front of her, an easy smile on his face and malice in his eyes.

    Edward Worth.

    "Agent Kingston," he speaks, his voice low and smooth.  "Welcome to my home.  I've been expecting you."

    Alex's heart pounds rapidly in her chest, and she presses her lips tightly together as her brain tries to catch up with the sudden change of scene.  Nothing about this is going to end well, and all she can do is silently hope that Matt goes unfound.

    "But you weren't expecting _me_ , were you?"  A cold smile flits across Worth's face, a hint of amusement dashing through his eyes as he enjoys her shock.  "I found the tracker on my cars days ago."

    Glancing at the person standing behind Alex, Worth waves his hand and the woman begins to roughly pat her down, taking the gun, the lock pick, and the knife strapped to her arm.

    "Still," Worth continues, "I'm thoroughly impressed.  When I first devised this plan, I thought at this point I would still have you agents chasing after my men as they brought in a little extra cash.  I had no idea how annoying you'd be.  The two of you were smarter than I anticipated, and I found myself wasting crucial time, pouring hours over planning the distractions instead of focusing on what I really needed to- that's when I ended our little game."

    He stands then, giving a humorless laugh as he buttons his suit jacket.  "Funnily enough, that's where I made my mistake.  I separated the two of you, never guessing the strength of your bond, or the lengths you would go to get him back."

    Worth rounds the desk and leans nonchalantly against the front of it, crossing his arms while his eyes bore into hers.  For a moment, they silently stare each other down, Alex holding her chin up in defiance, and biting back every retort itching to lash from her tongue. 

    Then, a slow smile appears at Worth's lips. "But now here we are, you finally in my grasp and nearly out of my life for good.  It's a shame Agent Smith is still recovering; the two of you truly are at your best when you're together."

    Despite everything, Alex feels relief wash over her.  They think she's on her own.  

    Straightening, Worth prompts, "Still have nothing to say to me?"

    When Alex keeps her silence, the man shrugs and approaches the large tapestry hanging on the wall behind his desk.  "Maybe this will get you talking."

    In one movement he snatches down the cloth, revealing a large vault embedded in the wall.  On instinct, Alex takes half a step forward, her eyes wide, but is stopped from moving any further by the woman behind her wrapping a strong, halting grip around her arm.    

    Seeming pleased by the reaction, Worth grins and teases, "Would you like to see what's inside?"

    The need to know, to see it with her own eyes, completely overwhelms her.  Gritting her teeth, Alex forces out, "Yes."

    "Yes, what?"

    Alex narrows her eyes, thinning her lips in silent protest.  It doesn't matter what is in that vault, she would rather cut out her own tongue than say _please_ to Edward Worth.

    Worth chuckles, moving to spin the lock handle.  "Don't worry, Agent Kingston.  Your time to beg hasn't yet come."  He glances over his shoulder, all playfulness lost and his eyes pinning her with that cold stare as he promises, "But it will."

    Despite herself, a bolt of pure fear shoots down her spine, any retort she might have had sticking uncomfortably in her throat.  The handle clicks as it is rotated, Alex barely hearing it over the white noise rushing to her ears as the reality of the situation finally begins to crash down.  She isn't escaping, not this time.

    There is a metallic _chink_ as the lock slides out of place, but Alex can barely focus when her chest is so tight and her knees feel as if they could give out at any moment.  Frustratingly, a prickle begins to sting at her eyes, her lip begins to tremble, and _no_.  She is not doing this right now.  Taking a second to squeeze her eyes shut, Alex pushes back the panic, refusing to give the man before her the satisfaction of watching her fall apart.

    When she opens her eyes, the vault door is swinging slowly open, and as the contents are revealed Alex suddenly feels like she is watching from outside of her own body.  Bars of gold, stacks upon stacks of cash, and even a small pile of glittering diamonds.  Not a single painting lies inside.

    Worth watches her closely, a grin creeping up his face.  "Those distractions truly paid off."

    Nausea rolls in Alex's stomach, those prickling tears returning almost as fast as she had gotten rid of them.  Her limbs are numb, her heart feels as if it's barely beating- or is it pounding too fast?- and she wouldn't be surprised if she collapsed at any moment.

    "What?"  Asks Worth.  "Not what you were expecting?"

    All the stolen wealth seems to mock her and Alex can't seem to tear her eyes from it.  All of this, the rushing, the planning, the breaking in...her capture.  All for nothing.

    Worth strides to stand before her, capturing her single tear with his finger, and self-loathing crashes down on her shoulders at the weakness.

    "Come, now, Alex," Worth whispers, his voice soft and her name leaving his tongue as if they were the oldest of friends.  "You didn't really think I would hide them in my house, did you?"

    Suddenly, Alex feels a switch flip inside her.  A mental barrier slams between her emotions, pushing everything back and leaving only anger.  Worth must see it flare in her eyes because in the second before she moves he seems to flinch in surprise.  Alex leaps, a humorless smile twisting her mouth because if only for a moment, this all-powerful crime lord feared _her_.  Her hands reach to strangle, but she never makes it, the woman behind her immediately tackling her to the ground.

    "Fuck," comes the woman's voice as Alex struggles to get from beneath her, stopping only when she feels the cold muzzle of a gun pressed to her head.  "Can't we just kill her already?"

    "No, Elise," reprimands Worth as he smooths his tie in attempt to cover his shock.  "Your sister has some unfinished business with her."

    "She's with the paintings, all the way in London!"

    Worth kneels beside Alex, moving aside the escaped curls covering the side of her face not smushed into the plush rug beneath her.  Alex tries her best to glare, infuriated when he only chuckles.  

    Worth stands, and all Alex can see is his polished shoes as he responds, "Which is where we're going."

XxX

    After her first act of defiance, Alex finds she loses the energy and stupidity to fight back.  She allows Elise to bind her hands and herd her, gun to her neck, to the car parked in front of the mansion.  She is roughly shoved into the backseat, Elise grumbling as she slams the door shut before rounding the car and taking the seat on the other side.  Alex is mildly surprised when Worth himself gets behind the wheel, but then maybe some business is better done firsthand.

    It is still dark when they leave Glasgow city limits, and the ride carries on for hours of silence, Alex finding herself capable of thinking about only three things:  her undetected mobile still tucked safely inside the inner pocket of her tights, the gun Elise keeps on her lap as a warning, and the fate that awaits her in London.   The last one she tries not to dwell on at all, and the second only frustrates her.  Even if she were to acquire the gun, what would she do?  Her hands are tied, literally.  Best case scenario:  she succeeds in shooting Elise and Worth, crashing the car and most likely killing herself in the process.  It's not a good plan.

    Her main thoughts are on her mobile, which most often leads to thinking about Matt.  Elise watches her every move, and Alex deems it too risky.  Not so much for herself, but for Matt.  If her mobile was found, it would only take looking at her messages to know that Matt was with her at the mansion, immediately compromising his location and his safety.  That aside, what would she text Matt even if she could?  It is still too dark to tell her location, and beyond that, there is too much to be said to put into a hurried text.

    Instead, she wonders if he's messaged her yet.  At the thought, her imagination makes it seem as if her mobile is burning through her skin.  It's been hours now, of course he has.  That thought alone is what her mind chooses to latch onto, and it becomes a particularly cruel form of self-induced punishment.

    What do the messages say?  How many are there, and how long does it take before they have that edge of true panic?  How long did it take him to find nothing in the underground floors of the mansion?  When did he venture upstairs, find the study on the second floor with her gun resting on Worth's desk, and just behind it, the open vault holding all the wrong treasure?  It makes Alex think of the phone call she received when Matt's tracker went missing, the pain that followed, and if it's the same as Matt is feeling now.

    Heart clenching in her chest, Alex rests her head on the cool glass of the car window and prays Matt escapes the mansion safely.

    It is morning when the crash comes, the sun just peeking over the tree tops.  There is an increasingly loud noise coming from behind them, like a revving engine from a particularly old car.  Alex doesn't put it together, and frankly pays it no mind until the noise crashes hard right into the back of them.

    All three passengers are jolted in their seats, the car swerving dangerously from the hit, and Worth voicing, "What the hell?"

    Alex and Elise both turn to look out the back window, both having very different reactions to what they see:  an orange, 1960's Cadillac Eldorado, with a madman behind the wheel.

    "It's Smith," Elise calls to her father, Worth swearing in annoyance.

    Alex laughs, a wide, disbelieving smile pushing at her cheeks. 

    Checking that her gun is loaded, Elise grumbles, "How did he find us?"

    Elise moves to aim her gun, but Matt gets in the first shot, shattering the back window.  Alex ducks as the glass rains down on her, and as Elise returns fire, she begins to frantically search for a sharp piece of glass to cut the ties binding her hands.  The guns pop off, Matt landing bullets in the headrests, and even cracking the front windshield, but missing the targets.  Alex's eyes fly across the floorboard, her fingers picking up a small, triangular piece of glass.

    Matt rams Worth's car again, throwing Elise off her aim, and Alex desperately holds onto the glass as she's jolted forward once more.  After regaining her composure, Elise continues with her shots, but Matt's bullets cease as he falls back for a moment.  Alex maneuvers the glass between her fingers and tries to reach the rope, making a frustrated noise when she realizes that even if the glass was a long enough, she'd never have the wiggle room to successfully cut through it.

    Dropping the glass, Alex looks up just in time to see Matt racing at Worth's side.  Worth growls, turning the wheel sharply just as Matt does the same.  The two cars collide, metal screeching, and sending Alex and Elise slamming into the door.  The cars speed down the highway, seemingly connected, and Alex gets a quick glimpse of Matt's face just before he takes aim with his gun.

    Worth's window shatters, and the man struggles to keep his hand on the wheel as he reaches for his own gun to join the fray.  Just as Worth aims, Matt is forced to pull back by an oncoming car, slamming on the brakes.  As the two cars disconnect, Elise's door is pulled from it's hinges, lurching dangerously across the road and nearly causing the oncoming car to wreck.

    Worth slams on the gas, trying to pull far enough ahead to ruin Matt's chance of catching up.  It doesn't work, Matt beside them again in seconds.  He reaches out the window and attempts to shoot the tires, missing as the bullets ricochet off the hubcaps and pavement.  Gripping the headrest of her father's seat, Elise leans out the opening where her door once was and continues firing.  The bullets sink into the orange metal of the Cadillac, one hitting the attachment of the convertible top and sending it flying far behind them. 

    Without the top, Matt is a much easier target, Alex's heart jumping to her throat in panic.  Elise chuckles as she steadies her gun, smirking as if she's already won.  With no time to think, Alex reacts on instinct, leaning back for leverage, then driving her feet hard into Elise's back in one swift kick. 

    The surprised cry the woman makes doesn't last for more than a second as she's sent flying from the car.  Alex refuses to look behind them, heart pounding incredibly fast in her chest as she stares at the space Elise had just been.

    "Jump, Alex!"  Matt yells, jolting her from her shock.

    Distantly, Alex hears the angry roar Worth makes as he realizes he is missing his daughter and is about to lose his prisoner, but she barely registers it, her heart thumping loudly in her ears as she approaches the opening.  The pavement rushes beneath her in a blur, her curls whip across her face, and she closes her eyes to steady herself.

    Determined, Alex reopens her eyes with renewed resolve.  She jumps just as Worth swerves away from Matt, and the brief second she is in the air between cars feels like the longest of her life.  Time seems to slow, nothing beneath her but the road, her pulse in her ears, and the Cadillac just a bit further from her than she'd like.  Her perception of time slams back into place as her stomach lands hard on the side of the car.  Sharp glass from the broken window digs into her skin, but Alex pays it no mind, struggling as her legs dangle above the pavement and every muscle in her body clenches to keep her from falling.

    Matt slows just enough to fall behind Worth, trailing him closely as Alex heaves herself into the car and crashes ungracefully into the floorboard.  Dazed, Alex stares up at the blue sky and clouds zipping above her and takes the moment to catch her breath.

    There is the sound of gun shots, and it startles her into moving as she remembers that it's not over.  Sitting up, Alex drags the rope binding her wrists over the jagged edges of the glass she landed on moments ago, the sharp points easily cutting through her ties.  Free, Alex clambers into the passenger's seat up front, Matt barely glancing at her as he focuses.

    Matt steers the car into the oncoming lane, flooring the gas to catch up beside Worth.  For the first time Alex looks ahead of them, her eyes widening at what she sees.

    "Bridge," she alerts Matt, her gaze focusing on the narrow two lanes that pass through it.

    "I know," says Matt.  Then, he grips her hand and places it on the steering wheel.  "Drive."

    Matt lets go of the wheel completely, wrapping both hands around his gun as he aims.  Alex trains her eyes on the road and tries not to panic as she steers.  For once she wishes her beloved American car had the wheel on the right side.

    They pass onto the bridge, Alex confused when Matt stops aiming at Worth's car and takes the wheel back.  "Out of bullets," he explains.  "Worth, too."

    Alex finds Worth's face, his expression spitting all the fire from hell as he offers a nasty grin before swerving as far left as the bridge allows.

    "Matt!"  Alex calls, pointing to the other car just as Worth forcefully steers right in an attempt to slam them off the bridge.

    Matt sees it just in time, slamming on the brakes.  The car screeches as it tries to stop, and though Worth's car barely clips them, it still sends them into a spin.  Alex clings to the side of the car, her hair obscuring her face and her body slamming into Matt's.

    When the car comes to a stop, there is silence.  Alex pants heavily and pushes the curls from her face, staring in shock at the massive hole crumbled in the side of the bridge.  When Worth missed, he must have been unable to correct before careening off the edge.

    Looking at Matt, Alex finds him staring back with wide eyes.   Then, without a word, they both quickly get out of the car and run to the edge.  

    Far below is Worth's car, just the bonnet visible as the rushing river pulls it under.

    Chest heaving and her entire body seeming to shake with adrenaline, Alex tears her eyes away from the drowning car to look at Matt.  He's already watching her, and then from one second to the next, she is pulled into his arms.  Their lips meet in a fierce kiss, and Alex clings to him, her arms wrapping tightly over Matt's shoulders as she reminds herself that he is here and they are _safe._

They part on a shaky exhale, and Matt presses his forehead hard to hers.  "I thought-"

    "I know," Alex interrupts, pressing another reassuring kiss to his lips.  "I thought so, too.  How did you find me?"

     "Put in a call to Headquarters.  Darvill helped me trace your mobile."

     "Sounds like we really owe him."

    Matt nods, and for a moment they stand in each other's embrace, blessed silence all around them now that everything has come to a stop.

    Alex pulls back and sighs as she looks at her car, crunched in at the front, windows blown out, top gone, and bullet holes peppering the side.

    "I told you not to wreck it."

    Matt makes a noise of outrage, pinching her in the side.  They both laugh as they walk hand in hand back to the car, and somehow it feels like a much needed release.

    They get back into the car and Matt asks, "Was he taking you to the real vault?"

    Alex nods.  "Elaine is there; it's somewhere in London."

    Matt starts the car, ignoring the clanking around, and asks, "How do we know where?"

    Alex pulls out her mobile and swipes it open, glancing only briefly at the low battery notice and forcing herself to ignore Matt's past messages that pop up.  Navigating to the tracker, she pulls up the last location of the car she had been tracking, frowning when she realizes it's in the middle of no where with nothing around it.

    "What?"

    "It doesn't make any sense," she says as she zooms in further.  Then, "Oh wait.  Worth said he figured out a couple days ago that I put a tracker on his car."  Scrolling, she finds the last location before the car moved, and pulls up the address.

    Quickly she types it into a search, brow furrowing when images of an abandoned warehouse pops up.

    Looking over her shoulder, Matt gasps.  "Alex, that's the place!"

    "What place?"

    "The place that ended up being a trap when Elaine sent me to scout it out."

    "Worth must have moved the vault there from Scotland."

    Matt nods, immediately putting the car in drive.

    Pulling up her contacts, Alex says, "I'll call Sir."

    XxX

    With Matt and Alex having been two hours out from London, Sir beats them to the warehouse.  It rests just outside the city limits, way back on some unnamed road, made of brick with smashed out windows and covered in graffiti.  With the exception of a few teenagers bent on vandalism, it's a sight that no one would visit, and no one passing by would give it a second thought.  A perfect safe house.

    However, when they pull up, the scene is far from abandoned.  Police cars surround the building and block the entrance, blue and red lights flashing and adding to the visual noise of the bright yellow caution tape and bodies of authority figures milling about.

    Alex frowns as the policeman by the entrance allows them through without question.

    "You think Sir is behind this?"  Matt asks.

    Her earlier call to Sir was short, filling him in quickly and giving him the location.  If Elaine figured out that her father's strategy had been ruined before Matt and Alex could arrive, they would have been right back at square one. 

    Alex spots the man in question a short distance away, barking orders at some poor local officer.  "I'm starting to think yes."

    They park, only just out of the car when Sir spots them, giving a short wave.  He shoos the officer away as they approach, his eyes landing on Matt.  "Shouldn't you be recovering in your new flat?  Disobeying orders again, Agent?"

    Matt gives a flat laugh.  "In fairness, Sir, I was running toward my handler this time, not away."

    Seemingly impressed despite himself, Sir grins, pride filling his eyes as he looks at them both.  "Good job, Agents.  Now, I think there's something you've both been anxious to see."

    Alex feels her heart give a nervous flutter.  "The vault?"

    Giving a nod, Sir turns and leads them into the warehouse.  "Don't worry about the other men, the local DCI got wind of what was going on and insisted on being involved."

    "Okay," says Matt.  "But what about Elaine?"

    Sir sighs, glancing back at them.  "Sorry, but you missed all the fun.  She figured out something was wrong as soon as we showed up.  Immediately started a fight.  Two of my men detained her and took her down to Headquarters for questioning."

    The exhaustion of it all finally starting to catch up, Alex feels instantly relieved.  "I think we've been through enough fun for one night."

    Sir laughs. "Drowning Edward Worth in a river?  I do believe that's enough fun for a lifetime."

    "Well," Matt starts, hesitant.  "We're not entirely sure he's dead."

    "Yes," Sir acknowledges, stopping in front of a tattered sheet of plastic hanging from the second floor.  "Which is why I've already sent out a search team.  Dead or alive, we need to know for sure."

    Matt and Alex both nod, exchanging an anxious glance.  If Worth is alive, they're going to have a lot to deal with.

    "But we'll worry about that when we need to," adds Sir.  "Now.  It's time to put this mission to rest."

    Pulling back the plastic, Sir reveals the vault resting just behind it, identical to the one in the Worth mansion.  Matt pulls the small square device from his pocket, pulling it apart and handing one half to Alex with an excited grin.

    Matching expression on her face, Alex takes a steadying breath and sticks the square over the dial.  Matt places his directly onto the metal of the vault, giving Alex a nod.  Without wasting another second, she activates the device by pressing a small button.  Matt grabs her hand, and together they step back as the squares hum and whir until there is a loud _crack_ of the lock breaking.

    The seal hisses, and the door slowly opens.

    Alex squeezes Matt's hand, and when the contents reveal themselves, she gives a choked laugh.  Nothing inside but four paintings, all instantly recognizable.

    "We found them," Matt whispers in awe.

    Suddenly, it feels as if the largest weight has been lifted from Alex's shoulders, tears blurring her vision as she gives Matt a beaming smile.

    It's over.

XxX

    _Three weeks later._

    The Tate Britain is packed, easily more people in one museum than Alex has ever seen.  Her and Matt walk leisurely through, her hand tucked snugly in his arm, and their faces wearing matching grins.

    The Van Gogh exhibit is quite something to behold- so many stunning paintings in one place.  All accounted for, and none replicated.

    The patrons take it all in with wonder, having no idea how close the world was to losing some of its most treasure works.

    Matt presses a kiss to Alex's curls as they stop in front of _Starry Night Over the Rh_ _ô_ _ne,_ and Alex hums happily.  The day after they found the vault, they had their debriefing at Headquarters, and the day after that Alex moved all of her things into Matt's new flat.  Just yesterday they planted seeds in their small, but private, garden; the ones Matt gifted her at Christmas months ago.

    Elaine is still being detained at Headquarters until her trial, and there still hasn't been any news relating to Worth's body, but as far as Matt and Alex are concerned, their job is done.  Their time together with no pressing mission hanging over their heads has been wonderful, but she can tell they're both starting to itch to return to the field.  Which is good since...   

    Matt sighs at the painting before him. "So what now, Agent Kingston?"

    "Well," Alex hedges, causing Matt to look at her with raised brows.

    "Sir contacted me this morning.  Offered me a lead on that Vermeer owner- some place down in Romania.  Apparently there's good reason to believe it wasn't a con."

    Interested, Matt asks, "What'd you say?"

    Alex offers a sly grin.  "I told him it all depended on if Agent Smith agreed to be my handler."

    Eyes lighting up, Matt bestows her with an enthusiastic kiss, and Alex laughs against his mouth, taking that as a yes.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING <333333333 *hugs all of you*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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